Magic in the Muggle World
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: On a case in muggle London, Hermione runs into the last person she ever expected to see.
1. Chapter 1

Something new! Let me know what you think. Also, I still own nothing.

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Chapter 1

"We've had reports of illegal uses of magic in front of muggles," Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic, announced.

Hermione Granger, quill in hand, quickly jotted down the information the Minister gave. Following a brief stint in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, she transferred to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It often fell to her to investigate improper uses of magic in the muggle world. With rapt attention, she listened as Kingsley gave the little details he had - Soho, occurrences happening only late at night, exact location unknown.

When the briefing ended, Shacklebolt asked Hermione to stay behind. They had been quite close over the years, having fought with the Order of the Phoenix in the Battle of Hogwarts. Kingsley Shacklebolt, despite the intimidating figure he cut, was a jovial, good-natured man who cared for his employees. "You look tired," he commented.

He was right, of course. Just a week prior, her engagement to her longtime boyfriend, Ron Weasley, had ended, and her lack of interest in having children was the final nail in the coffin. Ron wanted a family, and he wanted one right away. It was an amicable split, but they had yet to reach the point where they could be friends again. The break up was still too new, too raw, and Hermione was uncomfortable around Ron.

Not that she would tell the Minister of Magic any of that.

"I'm fine," she replied. "It's just been busy."

Kingsley nodded, knowing there was more to it than that. "If you don't want to take this case, you don't have to," he told her. "We both know you're the right person for the task, but I don't want you to feel pressured to take it."

Shaking her head, Hermione smiled. "No, I'll do it," she agreed. Anything to take her mind off Ron. "Besides, I always jump at the chance to spend some time in the muggle world."

Handing over a thin folder that contained the little information they had on the case, he bid her goodbye. Sitting down at the conference table, she opened it and began to read. It was minutes later when she realized she wasn't alone, but that Harry Potter, the Head Auror, had joined her.

"Kings assigned me to your new case," he announced, taking a seat beside her. "I hear we're going to Soho. Bring money, because after the week I've had, I intend to drink."

Brown eyes narrowed reproachfully on him. "You'll be working," she reminded him.

Harry shrugged and removed his round, wireframe glasses. "That doesn't mean we have to work all night," he pointed out. "As good as we are, we'll have the case solved and the wizard in a holding cell before nine o'clock."

She couldn't disagree with that. Since her reassignment, Harry and Hermione had the best case record among active employees. They had always worked well together, and Kingsley knew that the best chance for success rested on their shoulders. And the Granger/Potter team delivered time after time.

"Fine, one drink," she relented. "But only after we've wrapped this case up. Please don't overdo it."

Agreeing, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Will there ever come a day you stop looking out for me?" he wondered.

Smiling up at him, Hermione shook her head. "No," she replied. "Even when I'm dead, I intend to haunt you to make sure you're eating right and taking your vitamins."

Getting to his feet, Harry laughed. "Come on, I'll buy you dinner," he suggested. "Two single folk sometimes need a little company. Then we'll go catch ourselves a bad guy."

Not long before Ron and Hermione's relationship ended, Harry broke up with Ron's sister, Ginny. Their relationship had been on and off for years, but now it seemed they were officially over. Anger was a quick emotion in the Weasley household, and upon learning of the break ups, Harry and Hermione were no longer asked to attend family gatherings as they had before.

"Sounds good," she agreed.

After dinner, the pair made their way to Soho to begin the investigation. The streets were crowded as patrons waited in line for clubs and bars to open. There was no sense of magic in the air, and after an hour, they felt like giving up. "Maybe we're in the wrong area," Harry suggested. "Want to call it quits?"

Hermione shook her head. She had read and reread the case file, and they were in the right location. "You go," she decided. "I think I'll stay around a little while longer. It beats going home, anyhow."

He didn't want to leave her, but Hermione insisted. Not wanting to fight, Harry made her promise to call before he wished her a good night and went home. Now alone, Hermione wandered the streets of Soho, careful to avoid the intoxicated as the night went on. The darker the night grew, the brighter the lights became. It was then she spotted the bright neon lights of a club not far away. It was called The Pink Panther, and something about the crowd drew her in. The line wasn't long, so Hermione waited her turn, paid the cover charge, and went inside. Taking a seat near the back, she ordered a soda, and waited for something...anything to happen.

A dark stage was set up at the front, and as she sipped her drink, she wondered what the night's performance would be. The lights slowly rose on the platform, and in the center stood a tall man with his back to the crowd. The music began, a deep bass that throbbed loudly, making Hermione's heart pound. The louder the music grew, the more noise the mostly female crowd made until they drowned out all other sound. It seemed to be the man's cue, and he turned, smiling at the crowd, and began to dance.

Hermione watched in awe. The dancer was tall with broad shoulders and pale skin. Dark brown locks were gelled back to keep them out of his eyes, the color of which Hermione couldn't determine from such a distance. As the song continued, she realized his shirt and trousers, a western cowboy theme, were gone. Looking away, she blushed as it finally occurred to her that The Pink Panther was a strip club.

The air tingled then, and she glanced up just in time to see the dancer disappear. Sparks and smoke accompanied the trick, but Hermione knew they were just a disguise for magic. She had found her suspect. Now, she just needed to apprehend the dancer, which would be no easy task.

"Miss?"

Glancing up, Hermione was met by a large, muscular man in a t-shirt that looked to be three size too small for his bulging arms.

"Come with me please," he said as she stared at him with wide eyes. "Xander wants to meet you."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Nervously, she followed the man who said nothing. She was led backstage to a long hallway of closed doors. He knocked on one before opening it, and told her to go in. Wand hidden but clutched firmly in her hand, Hermione entered. The door closed behind her, and before she had a moment to think, her back was pressed against it.

"What are you doing here?" a harsh, familiar voice demanded.

Hermione gasped when she suddenly realized whose arm was pressed against her throat. Try as she might to reply, no words would come out. His hold on her loosened, but only slightly. "Investigation," she said.

Letting go completely, he stepped away from her. "Using magic in front of muggles," he guessed. "It's not like they've figured out that it's real magic."

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she wondered, continuing to stay as far away from him as possible. He had ambushed her once, she wouldn't allow it to happen again.

"Working, Granger. What does it look like?" Draco Malfoy retorted snidely.

The last time she had seen Draco Malfoy had been seven years ago when he faced the Wizengamot for his actions as a Death Eater. Following his exoneration, the Malfoy family had disappeared. No one in the wizarding world had seen or heard from them. That is, until now.

"Why here?" she asked.

Sighing, he tightened the sash on his robe and sat down. "What else would I do?" he wondered, losing some of his bite.

"You know I have to take you in," she said. "You know the rules about using magic in front of muggles. They're all going to need their memories wiped. And who knows how many times you've done it. This is going to be a mess, Malfoy."

Shrugging, he ran a hand over his hair, turning it back to its original shade of blond. "It's your mess, Granger. Not mine," he stated.

"Why are you even here?" she wondered. "A male strip club is the last place I thought I'd see you. And you're working here, of all places."

Draco stared into the distance, careful to avoid both Hermione Granger's eyes and the mirror. The last thing he wanted to discuss was the quick downturn his life had taken following the war, and the last person he wanted to talk to about it was Granger. "What do you care?" he finally asked. "Maybe I like this. Maybe I've got a great life because of this job. Do you have any idea how much money I make in a night? Don't be so quick to judge, Granger."

"I wasn't," she replied crossly. His eyebrows rose disbelievingly, but he said nothing. "You know I have to take you in for this, don't you? You know the rules about using magic in front of muggles."

"Or you could let it go," he suggested. "After all, it's not like they know."

Hermione scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "You're asking me to ignore this? We're not friends, Malfoy. I don't do you favors, especially not after everything you've done to me. I guess it's safe to assume you're not going to come quietly."

"I think it's safe to assume that I'm not going to come at all," he retorted, getting to his feet. "You're free to go, Granger. We're done." When she didn't leave, he shrugged and began to open his robe. Glancing behind him, he smirked when she averted her eyes. "Is the virgin afraid of a little male nudity?"

Scowling, she shook her head. "Just because you enjoy taking your clothes off for an audience, doesn't mean I want to see it," she stated.

"Maybe you should have left when I told you to," he suggested with a hint of mirth in his voice. After pulling on his pants, he told her it was safe to turn around again. There was a gentle pink hue to her cheeks when she faced him. Whatever humor he felt before was now gone. "Look, Granger, I know we're not friends. We've never been anything even close to friends. I just...I have a life here, a life I've worked really hard to build. So, tell me what I can do to stop you from hauling me back to a place I have no desire to return to."

She wondered what he meant. Was it a fear of being chucked back into Azkaban? He had spent six months locked in the prison while he awaited trial. She had heard horror stories of prisoners that had been slowly driven insane at the hands of the Dementors, but they had been expelled from the prison when Kingsley took over the post of Minister of Magic. The conditions were far more humane now, but a part of her could understand not wanting to return.

"I can't ignore my assignment," she stated.

Sighing, Draco nodded. "How'd you find me anyhow?" he wondered.

"We had reports of magic in the area, and since this is an area highly populated by muggles, it was brought to the Minister's attention. Harry and I were assigned to the case," she replied. "I sort of just...stumbled upon this place. I had no idea that you would be here, or that you were the perpetrator."

"So, where's Potter then?" he inquired. "Out calling in backup?"

Laughing, she shook her head. "No, he uh, went home."

Sitting down on the sofa, Draco guffawed. "Well, leave it to Potter to abandon you," he commented. "That was always his M.O., wasn't it?"

"You're not exactly endearing yourself to me, Malfoy," she stated angrily. "You want me to let you go, and yet you're insulting my friend. How do you think that's helping?"

Shrugging, he toyed with the buttons on the shirt draped over the arm of the couch. "I can't imagine anything I say will stop you from doing your job. Why bother sucking up to you?" he replied. Much to her chagrin, she admitted that he had a point. Draco smirked and pulled the shirt on. "Before you haul me off to Azkaban, could we stop by my flat first? There's something I need to check on."

Dark brows knitted together as she asked, "What could you possibly need to do?"

Getting to his feet, he crossed to his dressing table and removed a picture from the mirror. He handed it to her, showing her the photo of a little boy with a mop of blond hair and gray eyes. "I'd like to say goodbye to my son."


	3. Chapter 3

Has anyone upgraded to the new Apple software? I'm debating whether or not to do it.

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Chapter 3

She couldn't do it. Sitting in Draco's living room, Hermione realized she couldn't arrest him. Wringing her hands, she studied the muggle photograph that sat on the end table. A younger Draco held a little boy whose lips were smeared with blue frosting and a smile. Draco looked happy holding his son, and Hermione was sure she had never seen the former Slytherin wear a genuine smile.

"That's from his first birthday," Draco told her, interrupting the silence that had descended. Startled, she nearly dropped the frame as she attempted to put it down. "It was an ocean theme. He's always been a little obsessed with the ocean. I have no idea why. It's not like he's ever been there."

"I think you should take him," she said. "You know, instead of going back with me."

Draco stared at her, mouth hanging open. It had to be a joke. Hermione Granger was a stickler for the rules, and there was no way she would look the other way. "Are you...are you serious?" he asked, dumbfounded.

She nodded. "I am," she confirmed. "It's like you said, they don't know you're doing real magic. No one's getting hurt. Just promise me it'll stop. It's easier to say I couldn't find you if it doesn't happen again."

Sinking into the nearest chair, he continued to stare at her. "Why?"

Hermione shrugged as a gentle smile touched her lips. "Honestly? I don't know why," she remarked. "I didn't know you had a son."

"No one does," he replied. "At least no one from our world does. And he knows nothing of that world."

"So, he has no idea that you're a wizard?" she asked. "Has he shown signs of having magic?"

"Ironically, I have wards in place to block magic from happening here," he informed her. "I don't want him to know. There are a lot of things I don't want him to know."

She caught him glancing down at his left arm. The Dark Mark, the symbol Lord Voldemort branded on the arms of his followers, was hidden beneath his shirt sleeve. She hadn't noticed it at the club, but assumed magic was used to conceal it. He had never been proud of the mark, nor had he seemed anything but reluctant to be in the madman's service.

"What will you do when his Hogwarts letter comes?" she asked. "Will you let him go?"

Draco shrugged. "Honestly, I'd rather he think he's a muggle than know he's a wizard," he replied. "In my experience all magic does is get you in trouble. Case in point." He gestured to Hermione and frowned.

"You're not in trouble," she assured him. "At least you won't be so long as you leave Disapparating out of your act. I could get in far more trouble for keeping this from my superiors. Please don't make me regret it."

Hermione got to her feet, ready to leave, and Draco followed suit. "I'll stop," he promised. "Could you promise me something? I know I don't really deserve to ask for a favor, but humor me."

She nodded. "Go ahead."

"Don't tell anyone you saw me," he requested. "There might still be people who'd like to see me behind bars or dead in an alley or something. I'm a muggle now, and I'd really like to keep it that way."

Opening the door, she turned back and smiled softly. "You have my word," she told him before leaving. Returning to her flat, Hermione sat down in the dark living room. Her career was over. If the Ministry ever learned that she had the suspect and let him go, she would be fired. And why had she let him go? Because he had a little boy who needed a father. After losing her parents during the war, she knew the pain of such a separation. It wasn't something she wished on a six year-old boy whose family seemed to consist of one person.

Lying down, she stared at the dark ceiling as she contemplated her next move. It was entirely conceivable that Harry and Kingsley would believe that she hadn't found the wizard, but there was no telling how long she could keep that story going. If Draco ceased with the use of magic, the case would be over; a dead end. If he lied to her, Hermione was sure she would have no choice but to arrest him.

The next morning, she awoke with a terrible pain in her neck and the sun in her eyes. Groaning, she got off the sofa, showered as a fresh pot of coffee brewed, and dressed for work. Travel cup in hand, Hermione stepped into her fireplace and arrived seconds later in the Ministry Atrium. Harry was waiting by her desk when she arrived, and waited for her to settle in before asking about the previous night.

"I have nothing," she told him. "There were no signs that magic was being used so I went home."

Frowning, Harry shrugged. "Maybe it'll happen tonight," he suggested. "Want to investigate?"

Shaking her head, Hermione sipped her coffee. "I have a lot of paperwork to get done," she excused. "Let's give it another night. Who knows, maybe a Saturday night might be more productive."

Smiling, Harry agreed that a busier night would help the wizard blend in. While more people around meant their chances of catching their suspect were slimmer, it also meant that he might be more willing to use magic in an area where he was more heavily concealed. In Harry's mind, the case would be closed by Sunday.

Nervously, Hermione agreed. She busily worked through the morning, and when noon rolled around, she found herself in muggle London. Passing the Pink Panther, she continued on until she reached Draco's flat. Scanning the doorbells, she quickly found the one labeled "Malfoy" and was surprised to be buzzed in. She took the stairs to his flat on the third floor, knocked, and waited for Draco to let her in.

"Um, hi," he greeted her, surprised to find her standing in the hallway. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm, um, not going to arrest you or anything," she promised, biting the corner of her lip. "It's just...what we talked about last night. Harry's planning on doing some investigating tomorrow night. It might behoove you to lay off the magic."

He beckoned her inside. "I'm not working tomorrow night," he informed her. "I get every other Saturday night off. I was going to take Oliver to the movies."

Nodding, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, good," she murmured.

Taking a seat on the sofa, he studied her for a moment. "Why do you care?" he asked, watching her nervously fiddle with a curl that had come loose from her bun. "I mean, why bother coming all the way over here to warn me not to use magic at the club? Besides, I promised you I'd stop doing it in front of muggles. Did you just not believe me?"

"No, Draco, it's not that at all," she replied, moving to sit down across from him. "I just...I wanted you to know that I don't want anything bad to happen to you. It seems like you've built this life here for yourself and your son, and I don't want some Ministry investigation to ruin it."

Standing, he walked over to the door and opened it. "Thanks for your concern, Granger, but we'll be fine," he stated. "You can leave now."


	4. Chapter 4

I really did mean to post this yesterday, but then I got caught up in baking and watching Top Chef. So, I figured before I do anything else today, I should put up a chapter.

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Chapter 4

Coffee in hand, Hermione stood outside of the Pink Panther as closing time approached. It was late, and she hoped to catch Draco as he left for the night. The last time they had spoken, he seemed angry as he kicked her out of his apartment. There had been no further reports of magic and the investigation had temporarily been suspended.

The back door opened and Draco stepped into the alley. He spotted her before she had the chance to see him. Scowling, he turned in the opposite direction. Ever the keen observer though, Hermione called out his name and ran to catch up with him. "I have coffee," she announced, handing him a cup.

"Won't this keep me awake all night?" he asked, removing the plastic lid to sniff the beverage.

Hermione shrugged. "Coffee stopped having any affect on me sometime around age ten," she commented.

He replaced the lid and handed the cup back to her. "I appreciate the gesture, but Ollie's been sick, and he's kept me up every night this week. He's finally better, and I'm hoping it means I get to sleep tonight," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to tell you that the Ministry has moved on," she replied. "And to thank you for not doing any more magic. So, I guess I don't have to bother you anymore."

Draco shrugged as he continued to walk home. "Glad I could help," he muttered. "You know how much I _love_ to help the Ministry."

Hermione laughed. "Anyhow, thank you," she said. "I'll be going now. I'm glad Oliver is feeling better."

He nodded and watched as she turned away. As she left, he felt the urge to call her back. It had been years since he had talked to someone from his world, and he realized he missed being able to be himself. Though he had made friends at work, none of them could tell him about the wizarding world. No one knew the real Draco, but Hermione Granger did.

"Do you want to come back to my place?" he asked her. "I'm starving, and you look like you could use a few extra pounds."

Turning back, she smiled at him. "I thought you wanted to go to bed," she commented.

"I'm suddenly not as tired as I was before," he replied with a shrug. She walked back to him, and they continued on to his flat in silence. Entering, he paid his babysitter and sent her home. He beckoned for Hermione to follow him to the kitchen, and instructed her to boil water while he gathered the ingredients for spaghetti. "I don't trust her."

"What?" she asked, filling a pot with water.

"The babysitter. I don't trust her," he stated. "Ollie likes her well enough, and she's good with him. I don't know what it is."

"Intuition?" Hermione suggested, glancing over her shoulder. Draco shrugged, but said nothing more. She placed the pot on the stove and adjusted the flame beneath it. "Does she know what you do?"

He placed a container of sauce and a box of pasta on the counter beside her. "As far as I know, no one does," he admitted. "She knows I work in a club, but I've never given anyone further details. The last thing I want is for it to get back to my kid that I strip for a living."

Hermione moved aside and leaned against the counter. "Do you think you'll ever tell him?" she asked.

"Would you?" he replied. Hermione had the good sense not to answer. "I don't know. Maybe when he's older. I've done enough in my life for him to be embarrassed of. At least that I could hide. My job though...that might be tough."

She leaned close to the pot and checked on the water. "You won't be doing it forever," she said, hoping that she sounded reassuring rather than dismissive. "Okay, if you could do anything, no limits, what would you want to do?"

Sighing, he shrugged defeatedly. "I don't know," he mumbled. "So far, taking off my clothes for a roomful of drunk women is the only thing I'm good at."

The water boiled, and he began to make dinner. Hermione watched him prepare the pasta and warm the sauce. Ten minutes later, when the pasta finished cooking, he prepared two plates and handed one to her. "Well, you can cook," she declared, eating several forkfuls of rigatoni. "Did you...is this sauce homemade?"

Before he could reply, the kitchen door swung open, and a sleepy little blond entered. "Daddy, what smells good?" the child asked, rubbing his eyes.

Pushing back his chair, Draco wrapped his arms around the little boy and pulled him onto his lap. "Sorry, buddy. Did we wake you?" he asked. Resting against Draco's chest, Oliver shook his head. "Do you want to meet my friend?"

Gray eyes opened and studied Hermione curiously before his nose wrinkled. "But, Daddy, she's a girl," Oliver stated. "Why do you want to be friends with a girl?"

Draco glanced briefly at Hermione, wondering if the flashbacks to their own childhood had come rushing back. But she was smiling, obviously amused by his son. "Sometimes it's okay to be friends with girls," he told the little boy. "They don't all have cooties."

"But you checked her, right?" Oliver asked, a worry line forming between his eyebrows.

Draco laughed uproariously. "Yeah, buddy. She's cootie-free," he assured him. "Can you say hi to Hermione?"

Sighing exasperatedly, Oliver lifted his head. "Hi, Hermini," he mumbled. "Daddy, I'm hungry."

Spearing a small mouthful of pasta, Draco guided his fork to his son's lips. "Didn't Laura give you dinner?" he asked. The little boy nodded as he chewed and swallowed, then requested more. "Bottomless pit, this kid."

"Am not," Oliver cried indignantly as he continued to eat his father's dinner.

Draco chuckled. "Fine, at least leave some for me," he said. "I'm hungry too."

With an exaggerated sigh, Oliver handed him the fork and rested against his chest once more. Closing his eyes, he soon fell asleep, letting the adults eat in silence. Hermione offered to clean up while Draco put Oliver to bed. When he returned to the kitchen, he found her almost elbow deep in hot water and soap suds. "I half expected to find you trying to do this the magic way," he remarked, leaning against the counter top.

"I thought you had wards to prevent that," she pointed out and Draco laughed. "I actually happen to enjoy washing dishes. And packing. I really like packing."

"You always were odd," he commented as he put the leftovers away. "Thanks for confirming it."

Smiling, she shook her head. "Jerk," she muttered beneath her breath.

When he finished, he stood beside her to dry the dishes. "I'm sorry for the way Ollie acted," he said. "Honestly, I started having flashbacks to when we first met. I half expected him to call you a-"

He didn't need to finish. "It seems you've raised him better than that," she said, shutting off the water. "Besides, he seems sweet."

Draco nodded and handed her a towel. "He is," he confirmed. "He's a better person than me, that's for sure. Do you think I'm doing the right thing, though? Keeping him away from your...our world?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I wish I had a better answer than that, but I don't. Anyway, I should be getting home. Some of us have to wake up early."

Nodding, he followed her to the living room. "Granger, what I told him about us being friends," he started before clearing his throat. "I didn't mean...I wasn't implying that we are. I just...well, are we?"

Pulling on her jacket, she fiddled with the zipper as she stared down at her shoes. "I don't know, Draco. Are we?" she asked.

He placed his finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up. "I want to be."

Nodding, she smiled. "Okay, then. We are."


	5. Chapter 5

I was disheartened last week when I posted chapter 4 before it seemed like no one was reading it. Then I realized all the alerts when to my spam folder. That took me about 3 days to figure out. Yeah, I'm brilliant.

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Chapter 5

"So, what's on the agenda for tonight?" Harry asked as Hermione packed up her belongings at the end of the day. "Any big plans?"

Hermione shrugged as she jammed a notepad into her purse. "Strip club," she informed him, amused by the shocked, confused look on his face.

"Are...are you serious?" he asked, taking a seat behind her desk. "You...Hermione Granger. _You're_ going to a strip club tonight?"

Laughing, she shook her head. "No, I just wanted to freak you out," she replied. "I think I'll just go home, eat a pint of ice cream, and go to bed."

"_Boring_," he mumbled with a roll of his eyes. "Fine, if those are your plans, then you won't mind getting a drink with me."

Worry lines returned to Hermione's forehead. "You know I hate that you drink so much."

Sighing, Harry nodded. "I know," he admitted. "And believe me, I appreciate it. Some nights, it's the only thing I can do that stops me from thinking."

"You could talk to me," she suggested, giving his hand a squeeze.

He glanced down at her small hand. "Are you sure about that?" he wondered.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked.

Shrugging, he pulled his hand away. "I don't know," he replied with a tired sigh. "You know I worry about you too. You've been secretive lately. We hardly ever talk. I just miss you, Mione."

"I'm sorry, Harry," she replied. "I miss you too, and I promise I'll make more time for you. Just not tonight."

Nodding, he watched her pack her things and leave. Giving her a thirty second head start, Harry followed as she made her way downstairs to the Atrium. Though she lived in the muggle world, her fireplace was connected to the floo system. It surprised Harry when, instead of stepping into the floo, Hermione took the exit to the muggle world. Crossing the street, she ducked into an empty alley and Apparated. Realizing he had lost her, he turned around and returned to the Ministry.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she arrived in the alley behind Draco's building. She could feel Harry tailing her, and worried that he would find her. It wasn't shame of her friendship with Draco that was stopping her from telling her best friend about him, but rather Draco's fear of being discovered. So long as he didn't want anyone from the wizarding world finding him, Hermione would keep him a secret.

Entering the building, she took the stairs to Draco's flat and waited for him to let her in. When he opened the door, he smiled. "Thank you so much for doing this," he said, ushering her inside. Taking her coat, he hung it in the closet and led her to the sitting room. "I think Laura caught what Ollie had. I really appreciate this."

Hermione offered a shrug and a smile. "It's my pleasure," she assured him. "Is Oliver alright with this? Last time we met, I had cooties."

Despite his laugh, Draco blushed. "I really am sorry about that," he murmured.

"It's fine. He's six," she excused. "So, he's okay with me staying with him?"

Nodding, he called Oliver to the room. With a soft groan, he bent down to his son's height. "So, um, Hermione's going to hang out with you tonight. I need you to be good for her," he instructed. "She knows the rules, so don't try to pull one over on her. Bedtime is at eight. You have to eat your dinner. Hermione's really smart, smarter than I am, so she can help you with your homework. Don't color on the walls or pull her hair or flush Lego blocks down the toilet."

Behind him, Hermione chuckled. "Sorry, I'm just concerned that now you're giving him ideas," she stated.

Getting to his feet, he took gentle hold of her arm and walked towards the front door. "That last one he's tried a few times," he informed her. "So, you have my number and the club's number. Call if you need anything. I'll come right home."

"Listen, um, I don't mean to upset you or anything, but Harry's getting suspicious," she said, keeping her voice low. "He tried to follow me here."

"Was he successful?"

Hermione shook her head. "I Apparated before he could," she replied. "I just...if he does found out about...this, I wanted to let you know."

"Thanks," he murmured, kissing her cheek. He said goodbye to his son, leaving Hermione alone with Oliver.

With a nervous exhale, she smiled at the little boy. "What do you want to do?" she asked.

Oliver shrugged and settled down with a book. "Are you dating my dad?" he inquired, not looking up from the text.

Taking a seat across from him, Hermione shook her head. "No, we're just friends," she replied. "Sort of. Does your dad often bring girlfriends over?"

Gray eyes glanced at her over the pages. "Never," he said. "I don't think he's ever had one. That's good. Most of the girls _I_ know are gross."

Hermione laughed, but covered her mouth quickly to hold it in. "Not all girls are gross," she informed him. "What about your nanny? Do you think she's gross?"

Sighing, he set the book aside. "I don't know," he replied. "Maybe. She likes my dad, you know. I think she wants to date him, but my dad doesn't like her like that."

She couldn't help the small pit of jealousy that settled in her stomach, and wondered where it had come from. Then came the odd sense of relief when Oliver told her that Draco didn't share the babysitter's feelings. It bothered her that she felt such feelings toward Draco Malfoy, the boy who often teased and terrorized her when they were children. The boy who cowardly stood by while she was tortured by a deranged witch wasn't someone she wanted to like. But Hermione couldn't deny that she was, in fact, beginning to like Draco. Granted, he had been coarse and mean when they were first reunited, but he had quickly changed his attitude. It was he who wanted to be friends, and he who made every attempt to be just that.

When he could take the silence no longer, Oliver picked up his book once more. "What do you know about math?"


	6. Chapter 6

I've had a very busy day today. I only just finished writing this chapter about ten minutes ago.

* * *

Chapter 6

"He asked for you to sit for him from now on," Draco commented the next day as they ate lunch together. "I don't know what you did, but Ollie really likes you."

Hermione blushed as she focused on her salad. "I helped with his math homework," she replied sheepishly.

Draco shrugged. "Well, it worked," he commented casually. "He doesn't warm to people easily."

"He's a sweet boy," she told him. "Well, once he believed that I wasn't icky, he was. I wouldn't mind sitting for him again. Who knows, maybe next time I'll manage to convince him to eat broccoli."

Laughing, he asked, "Do you plan to Imperio him? Because that's the only way that'll happen."

She smiled confidently. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve," she assured him.

He nodded, knowing that if anyone could do it, it would be Hermione Granger. There was a more pressing matter at hand that he needed to discuss than his son's vegetable consumption though. "Ollie mentioned that you were asking about previous girlfriends," he said tentatively. "I, um, I haven't quite figured out how to tell him about his mother. Honestly, I'd prefer never telling him, but I doubt that's going to be an option. Anyhow, the point is that I don't date. I don't want people in my son's life who'll just walk away. The last thing I want is for him to get hurt."

Hermione felt honored that he had invited her into his family life, but couldn't help but wonder why she was the exception. She also couldn't help but question it.

Draco chuckled as he sipped his water. "Why you?" he mused, then shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I feel like I can trust you. Maybe I'm hoping that you really do live up to your House traits."

"Well, some of them," she replied with a smile. "Bravery, loyalty, intellect." Draco snorted and covered his mouth. "Make one crack about the Weasleys and I will throw something at you."

Holding up his hands in surrender, he promised to say nothing. "Anyhow, I'm hoping that you really are someone I can trust," he continued, sobering up for a moment. "It's been a very long time since I've had contact with anyone from that world, and while I have no desire to go back, it's sort of nice to have someone who can talk about it."

"I'll answer anything you want to know," she promised. "Could I ask, though...was Oliver's mother a witch?"

Surveying the small cafe, Draco made sure that no one paid them any attention. "She was," he confirmed. "You, uh, you know her. We all went to school together."

Hermione wracked her brain, but came up with no one who could be the little boy's mother. It didn't help that Oliver was the spitting image of Draco either. "Someone from your house?" she guessed, hoping that would narrow down the list of potential candidates.

A blush tinted his cheeks pink as he nodded. "Pansy," he told her. "Parkinson."

If she seemed surprised, Hermione didn't let it show. Pansy Parkinson, with her pug nose and superior attitude, had been Draco's long time girlfriend, taking a break from their relationship during sixth year. He had always been cold and unfeeling, and Pansy craved whatever attention he deigned to give her. She hung on his arm and his every word.

"I never knew she was pregnant," Hermione commented, trying to focus on the food in front of her.

Draco shrugged. "I don't think anyone did," he muttered. "Her family wasn't happy about it. We were in our last year of school, war was breaking out, and I was a Death Eater. Ollie was born while I was in Azkaban. The second I was free, Pansy handed him over, told me she couldn't take care of him, and I haven't seen her since. Want to know what the worst part is? She wanted to keep her family's money over her son."

Hermione thought back to his trial. Pansy had been there, seated in the back of the courtroom. Wearing oversized robes, Hermione now wondered if she had been concealing their child. The witch had seemed nervous as testimony was given and the Wizengamot deliberated. Even when the verdict had been handed down, Pansy's mood never changed from nervous.

"So, he doesn't know his mother?" she asked sadly.

Draco shook his head. "He's never asked about her. I'd be thrilled if he never did," he replied, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"What if he does?" she wondered.

Shrugging, he played with his food, no longer hungry. "I don't know. I guess I have to tell him," he said. "How do you explain to a little kid that his mother didn't want him, or she wanted her inheritance more? Then, it opens the can of worms about our world and magic. I know I have to tell him some time, but I don't know how."

She offered him a reassuring smile and placed a hand over his. "You didn't know how to raise a child or live like a muggle, but you figured it out," she said. "When the times comes that he starts asking questions, I know you'll be able to answer them."

"Thanks," he mumbled, staring at their hands. "Think you want to do it for me? He's probably going to get mad at me for keeping all of this from him."

Hermione chuckled. "Not a chance," she replied. "I don't want to disappoint him anymore than you do. You're his dad though. I think it's something you have to do yourself. Even if he does get upset."

"Why must you always be right?" he bemoaned, leaving a few bills on the table to cover the check. They exited the cafe and walked toward the Ministry.

Shrugging, she replied, "It's a blessing and a curse." She'd meant it as a joke, but her mood soon soured. "Ron always said that to me. It's part of the reason why we broke up."

Staring straight ahead, Draco watched the passersby returning to work following their lunch breaks. "He's an idiot," he stated. Glancing down, he caught her attempting to hide a smile. "What?"

"Nothing," she replied. "It's just...I think that's the first time I haven't minded you insulting him."

"Because it's the truth?" he wondered.

Shrugging, she replied, "Maybe."

They stopped two streets away from the Ministry. "I just...you deserve better, Hermione," he told her. "Someone who appreciates you. Weasley's an idiot because he couldn't do that."

He left then, leaving her alone to ponder his words.


	7. Chapter 7

Happy Friday everyone! It's 80 degrees in New Jersey today, which seems a bit wrong for October, no? Last year October brought a hurricane, the year before that a blizzard. If this is the weird weather pattern for this October, I'll gladly take it.

* * *

Chapter 7

"I was in the lift this morning and someone mentioned seeing Draco Malfoy a few blocks from the Ministry," Ron Weasley commented. The redhead was seated across from Harry as they ate lunch in the Head Auror's office. It had taken weeks, but Ron had finally come around. Rebuilding his friendship with Harry in the wake of their break ups had become a priority.

Harry continued to eat. "So?" he wondered.

"So, how long's it been since someone's seen Malfoy?" Ron inquired. "And now he shows up by the Ministry. What if he's got some plan in his head? Some way to hurt the people who he thinks ruined his life."

Frowning, Harry set aside his sandwich and leaned forward on his desk. "We didn't ruin the Malfoys. They ruined themselves," he stated. "Besides, they were all exonerated. Why would Malfoy decide now, seven years later, that it's time to get revenge?"

Shrugging, Ron seemed to deflate. Try as he might, he never seemed able to shake his role as Harry Potter's sidekick, and to have Harry shoot down his theory was a blow to his ego. "They said he was with someone," he added.

That seemed to pique Harry's interest. "Who?" he asked.

"Don't know," Ron muttered. "I had to get out before I heard who it was. I could ask around, see if anyone knows. Maybe he's got a partner."

Rolling his eyes, Harry returned to his lunch. "Please drop that, Ron," he implored. "I highly doubt Draco Malfoy has the stones to retaliate against anyone. He's a coward. Always was, always will be. You saw how quickly he ran away once his family no longer had the favor they once had. I really don't think he's the threat you want him to be."

Shrugging, Ron got to his feet and disposed of his trash. "I still want to know," he decided. "See you around."

He ambled through the hallways, waving to some, avoiding others. Stepping into the lift, he went up one level and meandered around the Magical Law Enforcement office. It was easy to pick out Hermione's desk. Despite her workload, everything neat, tidy and had a place of its own. Taking a seat beside her desk, Ron waited.

When she returned, Hermione was shocked to find her ex at her desk. "Ron? What are you doing here?" she inquired, hanging up her coat.

He greeted her with a nervous smile. "Hey. How are you?" he asked.

Sitting down, she eyed him cautiously. "Fine. What are you doing here?"

Ron got right down to business. "I remember that there was a case you and Harry were working," he said. "The illegal use of magic case that went nowhere. Anyhow, there have been reports that Draco Malfoy was spotted near the Ministry. Do you think there could be any link?"

Hermione's heart pounded. They had been seen together in the muggle world. If Draco was discovered, it would be her fault. "No, I don't," she replied, praying to whomever would listen that she sounded confident. "Draco Malfoy is no more a threat than you and me. He and his family haven't even been a blip on our radar since the war ended."

"That's what Harry said too," he muttered. "Still, I don't think it's a bad idea to look into him."

Leaning back in her chair, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "What makes you think you'll find him?" she inquired. "When he first disappeared, the best Aurors were sent to find him. No one could. I don't mean that as a slight against your skills, but I don't think he wants to be found, Ron. Unless you've got some kind of evidence to back up your suspicions, I'd suggest letting this go."

Despite wearing a scowl, Ron nodde, got to his feet, and left. Giving him a five minute head start, Hermione informed her boss that she needed to step out for a case. After receiving permission to leave, Hermione left the Ministry for Draco's flat. "Hey, hi," she said when she saw him outside. "Can we talk inside?"

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice rich with concern. "You look a bit freaked out."

Hermione shook her head and asked once more to go inside. It wasn't until they entered his flat that she shared her conversation with Ron. "How did you do it last time?" she asked. "When the Aurors came looking for you, how did you evade them?"

Draco shrugged. "I didn't know anyone _was_ looking for me," he replied. "I moved here and that's that."

"What about magic though?" she wondered. "I know you used it in your act. How were you never caught before? We never even had reports of it in that area until a couple of months ago."

Sighing, he shook his head. "I don't know what to tell you," he said with a hint of an apology. "Without a tracker, there's no way of telling if magic has been done if there are no wizards around to sense it. Maybe until now I've been lucky."

Shrugging, Hermione agreed. Draco sat down beside her and held her hand. "Do you ever regret leaving?" she asked.

"No," he answered honestly. "It's funny. For all my prejudices and put downs, I really love it here. I'm happy here."

Looking up at him, Hermione smiled. "That's good to hear," she told him. "Happier than back home?"

Draco snorted as he nodded his head. "Much happier. There's no one trying to kill me here," he said. "As least no one that I know of. There is a guy at the club who said he hates me for making more in tips. I keep it up, he might want to kill me."

"No one wants you dead back there either," she assured him. Once again, they lapsed into a comfortable silence. Hermione rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes for a moment. "I had to talk to Ron today."

Draco laughed. "I know. You mentioned that he wants to investigate me," he replied. "Here I thought that one day we might all be friends."

"Am I not enough?" she inquired, eyebrows raised.

Giving her hand a squeeze, he replied, "Sometimes I'm afraid you're more than enough. Like all I think about is you, and it's kind of scary. A good scary though."

"I know the feeling," she admitted.

Hermione wasn't sure who leaned in first, but their lips soon touched in a soft, fleeting kiss. Draco pulled away first and blushed. "Sorry," he mumbled, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment.

"For what?" she wondered, touching her lips.

Letting go of her hand, he got to his feet and ran a hand through his hair. "I, uh, have to pick up Ollie from school. Want to take a walk?" he asked.

Hermione followed him outside, and hand-in-hand they walked to the small school only blocks from his flat. A small group of boys congregated near the school doors, and Oliver was among them. Draco waved to get his attention, and received a smile in return.

"Who's that?" a boy beside Oliver asked. "Is that your mum?"

Oliver glanced at Hermione and smiled. "Yes."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Hermione waited in Draco's dressing room as he finished his set. It had become their new routine on the nights she didn't stay with Oliver. Draco wasn't comfortable with her watching his act, and neither was Hermione. Jealousy reared its ugly head as she thought of the women who ogled and touched him. He was hers, she decided.

Draco returned to the dressing room, sweaty and tired. Wordlessly, he dropped down beside her and closed his eyes. "I need a shower," he declared.

"You _do_ smell," she agreed, wrinkling her nose. "Sweat and body oil don't go well together. And is that Chanel No. 5 I smell?"

He sniffed himself and shrugged. "I really wouldn't know," he replied. "I don't make it a habit of asking customers what perfume they prefer. Gives them the wrong idea."

"What about me?" she wondered, slipping her hand inside his robe to rest on his stomach. "Am I allowed to touch?"

Draco chuckled when she tried to hide a repulsed look. "Bathroom's just across the hall if you want to wash your hand," he reminded her. Nodding, he stood with her and followed her to the bathroom. "You said you had something you needed to talk to me about," he said as he began to undress.

Hermione nodded as she washed her hands. "Apparently I have a son," she told him, waiting for him to step into the shower before turning around. "His name is Oliver. Adorable little blond. Thought you ought to know."

A wet head poked out from behind the shower curtain. "What a coincidence," he commented. "Care to start from the beginning?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, when a man and a woman love each other very much, they make a baby," she replied sarcastically. Draco flicked water at her, and clarified what he meant. "I got a call from his school today asking if I could pick him up. He wasn't feeling well so he went to the nurse, and she called me, his mother. Why does he think I'm his mother?"

The water shut off and Draco stepped out of the shower. "Believe me, I didn't put that idea in his head," he assured her as he dried off. "What did you do?"

"He was sick. I picked him up," she replied. "What was I supposed to do?"

Shrugging, he began to dress. "You could have told them to call me," he suggested. "I am the parent, after all."

"She tried that first, but couldn't reach you," she informed him. "I didn't tell them that you were busy taking your clothes off for unemployed women who have nothing better to do on a Friday afternoon."

Draco looked offended. "There were a few men too," he told her. "I don't form assumptions about your job. Don't do it about mine. And they're not all unemployed. We have a highly praised lunch buffet special."

Rolling her eyes, she wrapped her arms around his waist. "How foolish of me. I'm sorry," she told him, placing a kiss on his chin. "So, two questions. What do we do about your son thinking I'm his mother?"

Sighing, he shook his head. "Tell him you're not," he said. "What's the other question?"

Pulling away, she opened the bathroom door. "Why isn't there a dinner buffet?" she wondered. "I'm starving."

Looping an arm around her shoulders, he led her out into the cool night air. "Let's remedy that," he suggested. "How do you feel about pot roast?"

She took a moment to think as they crossed the street. "Well, I'm a little hurt, tad bit confused," she told him, managing to keep a straight face. "Still hungry though. Guess I could give it a try. You will have tissues on hand, won't you?"

"You're insane," he muttered incredulously. They entered his flat to find Oliver still awake and waiting for them. "You," Draco said, pointing at the little boy.

Oliver pretended he had no idea what his father was on about. "Me?" he asked.

Nodding, Draco shut off the television and sat down beside his son. "You can't tell people that Hermione is your mother," he informed the little boy. "You especially can't tell people at school. It's not fair to Hermione to ask the school nurse to call her when they can't reach me. I don't understand why they did, when Laura is your other emergency contact."

"I didn't want Laura," Oliver mumbled, eyeing Hermione. "I wanted Mini to pick me up."

Bending down to one knee, Hermione brushed the blond fringe from his eyes. "I liked getting to pick you up," she told him with a loving smile on her face. "But sweetheart, I'm not your mum."

Oliver nodded, eyes downcast. "I know," he told her. "I don't have a mum."

"I'm sorry, buddy," Draco murmured, rubbing his back.

The little boy shook his hand away and stood. "The other kids have mums. I wanted one too," he said. "Can I go to bed now?"

Draco nodded. "Sure. Come on, I'll tuck you in," he replied.

Once again, Oliver shook his head. "No, that's okay," he mumbled before leaving the living room.

"I'm sorry, Draco," Hermione murmured, leaning in to embrace him.

But Draco pushed her away. "It's fine," he muttered. "You still hungry? Come on, I'll make you a plate."

Hermione nodded. "I'll be right in," she told him. Draco left for the kitchen, and Hermione entered Oliver's room. "Can I tuck you in?"

Oliver set aside a stuffed dragon and nodded. With a smile, Hermione approached the bed and pulled the blankets around the little boy. "Is Daddy mad at me?" he asked.

Sitting down beside him, Hermione shook her head. "I don't think he could ever be mad at you," she assured him with a smile. "He loves you too much to be mad at you."

Sighing, he turned his head to stare at a crayon drawing of him and his father. Hermione's eyes were drawn to it too. "I made that in school," he told her. "The other kids drew mummies in theirs."

Her heart broke for a child who wasn't completely motherless. It angered her that someone, even someone as vile as Pansy Parkinson, could create a life and so callously walk away. "Maybe one day you'll be able to add a mum to the picture," she suggested.

Shrugging, he turned away from her. "Mini, I'm tired," he told her.

Nodding, she stood up and readjusted the blankets around him. "Sleep well, Ollie," she said, closing the bedroom door behind her.

"So, how is he?" Draco inquired when she entered the kitchen. When he noticed the incredulous look she wore, he rolled his eyes. "You're not nearly as sneaky as you think you are. The second you told me you'd be right in, I knew where you were going."

"Are you mad?" she asked worriedly, accepting the plate of food that he handed her.

Sighing, Draco shook his head and sat down at the table. "Only at myself," he admitted. "Maybe I should have told him about Pansy, or maybe I should have delayed introducing you to him. I don't know. I just feel like I screwed up."

"You can still tell him about her," she suggested. "I think he'd really like to know that he at least has a mother."

"Even a mother who didn't want him?"


	9. Chapter 9

I don't know if anyone else follows Santa on twitter (he's real!) but Christmas is in 76 days. What are the chances that this is the year my parents finally buy me a pony?

* * *

Chapter 9

"I have to ask you something, but you can't ask any questions," Hermione stated, standing before Harry's desk.

Glancing up, he set down his quill and smiled. "Is it something illegal?" he inquired.

"No questions," she reminded him. "Will you help me or not?" Sighing, Harry nodded. Taking a deep breath, she sat down and stared down at her hands. "Has anyone seen Pansy Parkinson since the war?"

Harry thought back, unable to remember the last time he had seen her. "I don't know," he replied. "She was at Malfoy's trial, right? Did she go to any others?"

Hermione shook her head. "I remember seeing her at Draco's, but she didn't attend his parents' trials," she recalled. "After that though, where has she been?"

"I can look into it," he promised. "I just...can you at least tell me why? I know I'm not allowed to ask questions, but asking about Pansy Parkinson is so out of the blue."

"It's for a friend," she replied. "I promise you, one day I'll tell you everything. I just...not today." She rose from her seat and walked to the door where she stopped. "Hey, Harry? Thank you. I don't know if finding her is a good or bad thing, but thank you anyhow."

She left them, leaving him alone to ponder her statement. Grabbing the nearest sheet of parchment, he scribbled a quick note to Ron, and set it off. Minutes later, Ron entered without knocking. "What's this supposed to mean, Hermione's acting strange?" he asked nervously. "What's wrong with her?"

Sighing, Harry removed his glasses for cleaning. "She came in asking about Pansy Parkinson," he explained. "I know you have your theories about Malfoy, and I'm beginning to wonder if Parkinson is somehow connected."

Ron grinned proudly. "So you believe me?" he asked, needing Harry's validation.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "I can't shake the feeling that Hermione knows something about Malfoy. She just clams up or gets defensive every time his name is mentioned. It makes no sense. She hated him just as much as we did."

Ron disagreed. "She only seemed to hate him when he called her names," he reminded his friend. "Wasn't she the one defending him when you said he was a Death Eater or the Heir of Slytherin? What if she knows something, and she's protecting him?"

"But why?" Harry wondered. "What has he ever done to deserve that?"

Neither man could answer the question. "Think we should look into him?" Ron asked. Harry nodded.

00000000

Hermione entered the Hall of Records hoping to find a clue that would point her in Pansy Parkinson's direction. Draco wasn't entirely on board with finding his ex, but had been fine with Hermione working her magic to provide any update she could. She could tell that a small part of him was curious about her goings on, but there was still anger towards Pansy for walking away.

Walking through the aisles, she turned down the one marked P. She had no idea what she would find in Pansy's file, if one existed at all. Aside from proof of birth, Hermione was sure there would be little else. Her heart raced when she located the file. It was thin, but appeared to have a good amount in it. Checking out the folder, she concealed it in her purse and returned to work.

It wasn't until she went home that she opened the file. As she suspected, the contents were of little use - proof of birth, a copy of her Hogwarts acceptance letter, a reprimand for the use of underage magic when she was fourteen. Nothing in the folder told her where Pansy was _now_, though.

Closing and tossing the folder aside, she thought about her next step. Perhaps St. Mungo's would have a record of her. However, accessing the hospital's records wouldn't be nearly as easy as the Ministry's. As Oliver's father, she assumed Draco would be the best chance of retrieving it. And she was sure that wasn't an option.

Pulling her coat and shoes back on, Hermione left her flat for Draco's. It was his night off, and when they had spoken earlier, he told her he had big news to share. Apparating to the dark alley behind his building, Hermione entered and took the stairs to his flat. Oliver answered the door with a smile on his face, and grabbed her hand to lead her inside. "Daddy said I can't know what the surprise is until you get here, but you're here now, so he can tell me," Oliver informed her, his words coming out rapidly as he excitedly led her to the kitchen. "Daddy, look! Mini's here. Tell me the good news now."

Draco greeted her with a kiss and returned to the meal he was preparing. "How about you go wash your hands instead," he suggested, getting a small rise out of his son. "I think I'll wait until after dessert to tell you anyhow."

"That was mean," Hermione remarked when Oliver stomped out of the kitchen. "You realize he's six, right? Asking him to wait until after dessert is like asking him to wait ten years."

Grinning, he shrugged as he checked the chicken baking in the oven. "Is that your way of saying you want to know now too?" he asked, pulling out the pan and setting it on the stovetop.

Hermione shrugged. "Well, it would be nice to know now," she commented as she set the table. "It's obvious that you want to tell us. It really isn't good to keep things bottled up, you know. I'd hate for you to have an aneurysm or a heart attack. You should tell us for the sake of your health."

Draco laughed as Oliver returned and demanded to know what was so funny. "You didn't tell her, did you?" he asked, afraid that he had missed the big reveal.

"Don't worry," Draco told him as he placed dinner on the table. "Mini was just trying to be funny. You haven't missed a thing." When everyone was seated and their plates made, he decided that now was the time to tell his news. "So, um, I decided to apply to culinary school. It's really thanks to you, Hermione. You put the idea in my head. Anyhow, today, I received my acceptance. I start next month."

Hermione beamed as she rose to hug him. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered in his ear. She felt his cheek warm against hers, and knew he was blushing. "What about-?"

He nodded. "Yeah," he replied. "But just until I graduate."

The adults sat back down, but Oliver looked perplexed. "I don't get it," he stated.

"I'm going to learn how to be a chef," Draco explained. "Then maybe I can work in a restaurant."

Oliver's eyes lit up. "Like McDonald's?" he asked excitedly.

Draco laughed as Hermione choked on a sip of water. "Probably, buddy," he agreed . He then turned to Hermione who was recovering. "There's something I need to ask you. Because of this, I'm going to have to cut back a bit at work, so I can't keep Laura on as Ollie's sitter as often. So, what I want to ask is if you wouldn't mind watching him at night when I have work. She can pick him up from school and watch him until you get out."

She looked at Oliver, who smiled at her expectantly. "I'd love to," Hermione replied. When they finished dinner, Hermione remained in the kitchen while Oliver was sent to his room to get ready for bed. "There's something we need to talk about."

Draco turned off the kitchen sink and looked at her worriedly. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

Hermione wasn't sure. "I asked Harry to help me look into finding Pansy," she told him. "Now I'm afraid that I might have given him a reason to look into you as well."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Draco stood outside the Ministry of Magic for the first time in seven years. Nerves consumed him. What had he gotten himself into? Suddenly, confronting Potter seemed like a bad idea. He had no wand and his magic was rusty. There was nothing stopping his childhood foe from harming him. He could only hope that time had matured Harry Potter as it had him.

Taking a deep breath, he entered and went in search of the Aurors' office. His legs felt like lead the closer he got to Harry's office. Whatever conversations went on around him, Draco could only hear the frantic beating of his own heart. Just as he raised his fist to knock, Harry stepped out of his office.

"Malfoy?" he asked, surprised to see him.

"We need to talk," Draco stated. "About Hermione."

Nodding, Harry stepped back and allowed Draco to enter his office. The two men sat down, both nervous and feeling the awkward tension that passed between them. "Is she alright?" Harry finally asked after several long moments of silence.

Draco looked up, startled by his question. "She's fine," he promised.

"Then what's this about?" Harry wondered. "And what do you have to do with Hermione?"

Draco blushed. "I guess she hasn't told you that we're dating," he replied, amused by the shock on Harry's face. "Anyhow, she's trying to find Pansy, and I want you to stop her."

When he recovered, Harry asked, "Why?"

"Because she's doing it for me," Draco replied. "And I'd really rather not have Pansy Parkinson back in my life."

Harry's dark brows furrowed. "Then tell her that yourself," he said, bordering on angry. "Why should I get involved in your love life?"

Shaking his head, Draco got to his feet. "It's not about my love life," he stated. "I have a kid, Potter. A kid who has never met his mother, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Why?" Harry wondered. Having never known his own parents and wishing he had, it perplexed him that anyone would deny a child the right to know a parent.

Sitting back down, Draco stared at the framed photo of Lily and James Potter that Harry kept on his desk. "Say your parents hadn't been killed. Say they were the ones who left you on that doorstep and never looked back," he said. "How would you feel if you were just abandoned? Would you want to know them?"

Sitting back, Harry released a deep breath. "I don't know," he answered honestly.

"I love my son, Potter. I love him more than anything else in the world. I just want to protect him, keep him from getting hurt. Help me do that," Draco implored.

Harry nodded. "Tell me something first," he said as Draco prepared to leave. "Where the hell have you been all this time? And how did you find Hermione?"

Draco smiled. "She found me," he replied. "I'm a muggle now, Potter."

It was then that Harry put it together. "Our case. The use of magic in a muggle area case. That was you."

Nodding, Draco confirmed it was. "Hermione doesn't know," he lied. "I stopped as soon as we met. It was completely harmless, I swear."

Harry frowned. "I should arrest you for this," he stated. Draco nodded in agreement and cast his head down, but inside he felt hopeful that Potter might look the other way as Hermione had so many months ago. "I'm not going to though."

Looking up, he hoped he looked surprised. "You won't?" he asked gratefully.

"You don't seem to have much family," Harry commented. "I'd hate to see your son be without his father. I know what it's like to have guardians who hate you, and I don't wish that on anyone."

"Thank you, Potter," Draco replied with a soft smile. Once more, he walked toward the door. "I know I don't deserve to ask for a favor, but could you maybe not tell Hermione I was here? I don't want her to worry."

Harry frowned. "Why would she be worried?" he inquired.

"You know Hermione. She worries about everything," Draco replied. Smiling, Harry nodded in agreement and promised to keep their conversation a secret. Feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, Draco opened the door to leave.

"Malfoy," Harry called. "Stop around again some time. This wasn't terrible."

Draco smirked. "Yeah, it really wasn't," he concurred. "I'll see you soon."

He breathed easier when he was finally away from the Ministry. As long as his visit didn't get back to Hermione, he would be fine. Entering the club, he made his way to his dressing room and was surprised to find that it wasn't empty. "What are you doing here?" he wondered.

Closing her book, Hermione smiled at him. "I heard this place has a great lunch buffet," she commented, getting to her feet. "Can we have lunch together today?"

Her arms wound around his waist, and Draco held her just as tightly. "Sounds like a plan," he murmured before kissing her.

Pulling away, she rested her head against his chest. There was a new smell on him, one that concerned her. "You smell like magic," she commented. "Oh god, Draco. What did you do?"

She stepped away in a panic, all the color draining from her face. "No, love, it's fine," he tried to assure her. "It's not what you think. I haven't done any magic. I just...I went to see Harry today."

"Harry?" she asked. "Since when is he _Harry_? And what did you do?"

"It's fine," he promised, holding her shoulders. "We just talked. I thought it might make your life easier if you didn't have to hide me anymore. We got along fine. Hell, he asked me to come back."

Hermione scoffed. "Probably to arrest you," she exclaimed. "Does he know about your use of magic? Does he know about Oliver? What does he know about us?"

"It doesn't matter what he knows," Draco stated. "What matters is I know I can trust him. I know I love you. Can you say that's something you know?"

Sighing, she tugged on his shirt, drawing him closer. "I do now," she murmured.

He kissed the tip of her nose. "Do you think you might feel the same way?" he wondered.

Grinning, Hermione nodded. "I do love you," she replied. "I also worry about you. And Ollie."

"I know you do," he said softly. "You have nothing to worry about. Ollie and I are fine. You and I are good. Everything is going to work out fine."

Nodding, she kissed him and prayed he was right.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Draco returned home exhausted. He hadn't expected that his first week of school and work would take so much out of him, and wondered how he could continue to juggle both. His flat was dark when he entered, and the living room was deserted. Kicking off his shoes, he left them by the front door and went in search of Hermione. He found her asleep in a chair beside Oliver's bed, books strewn about the floor. Quietly, he reshelved the books and woke her.

"Have a nice nap?" he whispered.

Hermione, startled, got to her feet. "I'm so sorry," she said in a panic. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

He held a finger to his lips to remind her to be quiet and escorted her from the room. "It's fine," he assured her, closing the door. "It's late. I didn't expect you to still be awake."

"I could have cleaned up first," she excused, her cheeks flushed.

Shrugging, he led her to the kitchen. "He's six. His room is always a sty," Draco commented as he removed sandwich fixings from the refrigerator. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say magic was at work in keeping that room perpetually messy."

Hermione sat down, her hands nervously fidgeting in her lap. "There's um, something happened today at the school," she said. His meager dinner forgotten, Draco sat down across from her. "Ollie was mad at one of his classmates and made the little boy's chair slide out from underneath him. The kid was on the other side of the room."

Draco groaned. His son was beginning to exhibit signs of magic. "What did they do?" he wondered. "Why wasn't I called?"

"The teacher thought he slipped off the chair," Hermione explained. "There was no way she knew it was Ollie who did it. He's the one who told me about it. I think it scared him more than anything. I remember what that was like. It's terrifying when you realize you can make something move just by thinking about it, or you get angry and something you haven't touched or are nowhere near just shatters. And then you start to wonder what's wrong with you."

Draco nodded. "Okay. So I have to tell him," he muttered. "I have to tell him who he is and who I am. Do I tell him that you're like us? Can I leave Pansy out of it? Do you think he'll hate me for keeping this from him?"

Hermione reached for his hand. "He won't hate you," she promised. "It might be reassuring to know that he's not alone in this. That he's not some kind of...I don't know, freak. I would have given anything to know what was happening to me when I first developed magic. To wait until I was eleven to find out...at least he's finding out sooner."

"Will you stay with me?" he asked. "Help me explain it to him?"

Smiling, she promised that she would. "How soon do you think you'll tell him?"

Shrugging, he removed his hand from beneath hers and got to his feet to continue making his sandwich. "Tomorrow's Saturday. I guess I could do it tomorrow," he said with the same amount of enthusiasm that dental work would inspire. "Maybe I'll make him a nice breakfast first. Lull him into a false sense of security. He can have bacon and sausage. And then I'll tell him he's a wizard."

"When did you first realize it? That you could do magic?" she wondered. "Can you remember?"

Sighing, he returned to the table with a turkey sandwich. "I do," he said. "I was five the first time it happened. My parents were drinking wine with dinner, and I wanted to try it. Mother wouldn't let me. She told me it was only for grown ups. I was spoiled and stubborn, and she kept refusing me. I made the wine glass explode in her hand. Red wine all over her brand new robes."

Hermione laughed as she pictured Narcissa Malfoy drenched in red wine. "Did she actually show an emotion?" she wondered, knowing the blonde pureblood rarely expressed her feelings.

"No," he recalled. "She very impassively got up and left the dining room. I was chastised by a house elf for making a mess until my father threw a dinner roll at it to quiet it. Then Lucius smacked my hands with his walking stick and sent me to my room without dinner. I was so fixated on getting that wine that I hadn't eaten a bite. Dobby...Dobby was great. Every once in a while he enjoyed defying my father. He brought me a few sweets, banged his head against the bedpost for about ten minutes, and left."

"That sounds like Dobby," she said fondly. "You always knew though, didn't you? That your parents could do magic, and you'd be able to do it too."

Draco shrugged. "I guess," he muttered around a mouthful of food. "You've heard my story. I want to know yours now."

Hermione blushed. "Because you didn't already think I was a bookworm," she replied. "I was at the library with my mum, and the book I wanted was too high for me to reach. There was no one around to get it down for me, so I sort of...summoned it."

"Nerd," he teased, kissing her cheek.

Hermione chuckled. "It scared the living daylights out of my mother," she recalled. "My parents wanted to have me tested. They thought something was wrong with me. And then they wondered what would happen if anyone knew that I could do whatever it was I was doing. They never told anyone that I was a witch. Honestly, it took a long time for them to accept what I was."

Talking about her parents was difficult, and Draco could see the mix of fondness and grief in her eyes. "They would have been proud of what you've done," he told her, holding her hand.

Sniffling, she nodded. "He'll be alright, you know," she said. "Ollie's smart and rational. I think he just wants to know what's going on."

"I know you're right," Draco agreed. "I'm just scared."

Hermione gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Don't be," she replied. "Everything will be fine."

Smiling, he asked, "Are you sure about that?"

Returning his grin, Hermione nodded. "Have I ever been wrong before?"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Oliver awoke early the next morning. He had had trouble sleeping the night before, fearful that he would be in trouble with his father for the incident at school. Hermione had surely told him what he had done, and he knew a punishment was coming. He slipped out of bed and left his room for the living room. It surprised him when he found Hermione's coat and shoes there, and he wondered if she had stayed the night. Perhaps she had fallen asleep before having the chance to tell Draco what had happened at the school.

He allowed himself that small bit of hope until Draco awoke. "Hey buddy," he greeted the little boy, ruffling his own blond locks as he joined him in front of the telly. "I guess you know that Mini is here."

Oliver nodded solemnly.

"Are you okay with that?" Draco asked.

Again, he nodded.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" Draco prodded, giving his son's side a gentle poke.

The littlest Malfoy turned to his father with wide eyes. "Mini let me have a cookie before bed," he stated before turning away.

Draco chuckled and got to his feet. "I'll have to talk to her about that," he said, making his way to the kitchen. Hermione was already there making a pot of coffee when he entered. "Well, he ratted you out."

Hermione stared in disbelief. "For what?" she demanded to know.

He pulled two mugs from the cabinet. "You gave my kid cookies," he said, shaking his head, disappointed by her actions. "Grab the eggs, will you?"

"I let him have one," she stated, doing as he asked. "He was upset about the incident at school. You Malfoys are excellent at making people feel bad for you. That boy has lived with you too long."

Coming up behind her, Draco kissed her cheek, then her neck, and finally her shoulder. "But you love us," he murmured. "You can't help it. We're perfect."

Hermione giggled as she pushed him away. "Just cook," she chastised. "I'm starving."

"Who said I'm feeding you?" he retorted as she left the kitchen.

Ignoring him, she entered the living room and sat down beside Oliver. "Daddy told you I told on you, didn't he?" he asked without taking his eyes off the television.

"Yeah, but it's okay," she assured him. "I don't think he's mad."

"So, you can still watch me?"

She ruffled his light blond hair. "I'm not going anywhere," she promised.

They watched cartoons together until Draco called them in for breakfast. Oliver stared at the spread as he took his seat at the table - eggs, pancakes, bacon, sausage. His father had made his favorite breakfast foods, foods he rarely made. "Daddy, are we celebrating something?" he asked. "It's not my birthday."

"I know," Draco replied as he sat down. "Dig in before it gets cold."

They ate in silence until their plates were clean. Draco offered seconds, but Oliver and Hermione turned him down. The little boy watched curiously as the adults shared a whispered conversation, one which made Draco's brows furrow with worry. "You have to tell him," he heard Hermione say.

"Tell me what?" Oliver wondered, dragging his fork through the leftover maple syrup on his plate. "Am I in trouble? You told me I wasn't in trouble, Mini."

"You're not in trouble, buddy," Draco assured him. "There's, uh, there's something you need to know. There are things I haven't told you, things about me."

Worry lines wrinkled the little boy's forehead. "Bad things?"

Draco wasn't sure how to answer that. He had done horrible things in his youth, things he wanted to keep secret. His son was far too young to hear about Death Eaters and the war. "Not...bad," he hedged. "Just different. You and me, Oliver, we can do things that other people can't. You know what magic is, right? Well, we can do that."

"Am I a witch?" Oliver asked, trying to process what his father had told him.

Draco shook his head. "No, girls are witches," he explained. "You and I are wizards."

"How do you know?"

Draco sighed. "I know because you used magic in the school yesterday," he admitted. "Hermione told me what you told her about making your classmate's chair slide away, and that's when I realized that you're beginning to show signs of magic. I promise you, it's nothing to be afraid of. Being able to do magic is a wonderful thing. You just have to be careful about it. There's this whole other world, the world I grew up in, where there are so many more witches and wizards. Here, though, there aren't that many of us, so we have to hide."

Oliver leaned across the table. "Does Mini know?" he whispered.

"She's one of us," Draco told him. "She's a witch."

"I grew up like you," Hermione added. "My parents were...well, we call them muggles. Those are people who can't do magic, like your schoolmates. They can't know what you can do."

Oliver grew more and more worried. What if he had another accident like he had the day before? What would happen if muggles found out? "Am I in trouble for what I did at school?" he asked.

Draco beckoned him over and sat his son on his lap. "You're still young and your powers are only just developing," he explained. "The Ministry of Magic, they're sort of like Parliament, they tend to look the other way on this sort of thing."

"We look the other way on accidents," Hermione clarified. "You can't turn someone into a toad on purpose because you're mad at them."

Oliver glanced at her with wide, surprised eyes. "Do you work for the magic people?" he asked. Hermione nodded. "Can I go there? I want to see the...what did you call it, Daddy?"

Hermione smiled. "I don't think that would be a problem," she said, looking to Draco for approval. He seemed apprehensive to give it, but eventually conceded. "Will you be joining us?"

"I guess," he mumbled, knowing he could no longer use his fear of discovery as an excuse. "Just let me clean up first."

Oliver followed Hermione from the kitchen. Taking hold of her hand, he entered his bedroom. If she was surprised, she didn't let it show. "Mini." He said her name slowly as he made his bed and she put away his toys. "Why didn't Daddy tell me before that he could do magic?"

Sighing, she sat down on the bed and asked him to join her. "I don't know that I'm supposed to answer that," she said, knowing that if she did she would have to choose her words wisely. "I think he just wanted you to know what it's like to be a normal kid. You've got a great dad, and he loves you so much. He wasn't hiding this from you because he didn't want you to know."

Oliver nodded. "Is it okay that I'm scared?" he asked, his voice small.

"It's okay for you to feel however you want to feel," she told him. "I'm sure your dad would be happy to slowly ease you into this."

"Mini, what if I don't want to be a wizard?"


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Harry entered Draco's flat apprehensively. "He's really a stripper?" Harry whispered as Hermione shut the door behind him.

It was the fifth time he had asked since Hermione had asked him to come over. "Yes, he's a stripper," she replied exasperatedly. "Now drop it. Oliver doesn't know."

"Fine, I won't say a word. What am I doing here?" he inquired.

Hermione led him to the living room where Oliver sat on the floor surrounded by school books. "Ollie just found out that he's a wizard, and I thought he might want to meet the most famous living wizard there is," she stated.

The little blond stared at Harry curiously before turning his attention to Hermione. "Is he the guy Daddy doesn't like?" he asked.

Hermione struggled to maintain a serious expression. "Well, there was a time when they didn't get along, yes," she confirmed.

"It's not like that anymore," Harry said, sitting down near Oliver. "What are you working on?"

Oliver shrugged and shut his math book. "Mini, my homework's all done," he announced. He handed his work to her to check, then turned to Harry. "Are you like my dad?"

Harry prayed that he was referencing their magical connection, and not Draco's work life. "I'm a wizard," he confirmed. "Her...Mini told me that you just found out that you are too. She also told me you don't want to be one."

"I like being a...whatever she called them," Oliver replied defiantly.

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, being a muggle isn't bad. We get to watch TV and play video games," he said. "Did you know that Hermione can make birds appear out of nowhere?"

The little boy glared at him. "Birds are gross."

"What about riding a broom? That's my favorite part about being a wizard," Harry stated. "Your dad and I used to fly together. We would play a game called Quidditch, and we played the same position."

It did nothing to change Oliver Malfoy's mind. "That sounds silly," he muttered, reaching for the television remote to turn the set on.

"Be nice, Ol," Hermione chastised as she handed him his books to put away.

Oliver left to put his belongings in his room and get ready for bed. "Maybe this wasn't a good idea," Harry decided. "Honestly, I think Malfoy's kid hates me. Must be genetic."

"He doesn't hate you. He doesn't hate anyone," Hermione replied defensively. "He's just scared. I thought maybe if he realized that being a wizard isn't a bad thing, he'd be more on board about being one."

Harry eyed her curiously. "You seem rather invested in this," he commented.

She shrugged. "I know what he's going through," she replied. "You should too. You were raised by muggles, believing you were a muggle. I just thought if he heard it from someone else that he might not be so upset about it."

Harry reached for the remote and pressed the power button. "I'm concerned," Harry said, holding up a hand when she began to interrupt. "Not about the kid, but you. You and Ron haven't been broken up that long, and you're already playing mummy to Malfoy's son. Don't you think you're rushing into this? And, I mean, it's Malfoy. I'm sure he's fine for a rebound, but you can't be serious about him."

"Why can't I?" Hermione inquired. "Why is it so wrong that he's the person I choose to love? He's a good man, Harry, and he's good to me. He's a loving father, doing whatever it takes to give Oliver a normal, happy childhood. Can't you just accept the fact that we're happy?"

Sighing, Harry shook his head as he ran a hand through his dark, messy locks. "I don't know," he muttered. "It's like I said - I worry about you. You're all I have in this world, and I don't want to see you get hurt."

She smiled and reached for his hand. "I'm not going to get hurt," she assured him. "Breaking up with Ron...I thought that would hurt, and maybe it did for a little while. But I'm okay. I learned that it was possible to move on. It didn't feel right with him, but it does with Draco. Harry, I'm happy for the first time in a very, very long time."

Nodding, he leaned in to hug her. Her eyes had closed briefly as he gave her a gentle squeeze. When she opened them, she saw Ollie run from the room. Stiffening, she pulled away and left the living room.

"I'm telling Daddy," he threatened when she entered his room.

"Sweetheart-"

He glared angrily at her. "I'm not your sweetheart," he said, pulling the blankets off his bed.

Hermione picked them up and set them aside. "Oliver," she tried again, "I need you to know something. I love your daddy. I would never do anything to hurt him or you. Harry and I have been friends for a very long time, and your dad knows that."

"You can't be friends with him and friends with us," the little boy stated defiantly. "You're supposed to be here with me and Daddy. How can you do that if Harry's your friend?"

She began to remake his bed. "I think it's the other way around," she said. "I spend so much time with you, that I haven't really made time for Harry lately. We see each other at work, but all the time I spend away from work is spent with you and your dad. Some days I see more of you than I do of your dad."

Oliver grinned proudly as if it had been a competition all along. "That's just because I'm your favorite," he replied.

Hermione hugged him tightly. "Don't tell the others," she whispered. "Do you think you could be nice to Harry? He has some really good stories. I just want to see you excited about being a wizard. Maybe if he really believes you, Harry will take you around the Ministry of Magic. I know you don't want to go anymore, but I think you would like it."

Sighing, Oliver nodded and agreed to give Harry a chance.

Hours later, after Oliver had gone to bed, Draco arrived home to find Harry Potter on his sofa. "Not who I expected to find in my house," he commented. "Where's Hermione?"

"Kitchen," Harry replied without taking his eyes off the television screen.

Draco entered the kitchen and stood by the door as Hermione moved around the room preparing his dinner. "What's Potter doing here?" he asked when she finally turned around.

Startled, she dropped a half full bag of pasta on the floor and scrambled to clean it up. "I, um, I was hoping he might be able to get through to Ollie. Make him see that being a wizard is a good thing," she told him, depositing the scattered noodles in the rubbish bin.

Sighing wearily, he sat down at the table and rubbed his tired eyes. "I think you need to let this go," he decided. "If my son doesn't want that life, I'm not going to push him into it. I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I need you to stop."

Hermione nodded. "I'm sorry. I was only trying to help," she replied.

Pulling her onto his lap, he kissed her tenderly. "I know, and I appreciate it," he told her. "But this isn't a decision we should make for him. Let him choose this one on his own."


	14. Chapter 14

Another busy day! What is it with jobs that make you work? Can't they just...I don't know, give me a paycheck for surfing the internet all day?

* * *

Chapter 14

"You're sure?" Ron asked, his voice rich with disbelief. Harry nodded as he continued to work. "You really believe that there's no reason to investigate Malfoy?"

"I really believe that," Harry mumbled as he moved onto the next file. "Look, I'm not the one looking to win back Hermione's friendship. You are. Do you really think investigating her boyfriend is the way to do it? Besides, he's done nothing illegal. I know he was a Death Eater, and he did horrible things when we were teenagers, but he was cleared of those charges. He's done nothing even remotely questionable since then."

"Wait, _boyfriend_?" Ron asked, surprised by the news. "Since when is Hermione dating that scum?"

Harry shrugged. "A couple months," he guessed. "And he's not a bad guy. He's got his life better put together than I have. Hermione said he's really changed, and I've seen it firsthand. It's almost nauseating how much he cares about her."

"And you don't find _that_ strange?" Ron demanded.

Setting down his quill, Harry chuckled. "Yes, I always find it quite disturbing when someone cares about my best friend," he commented sarcastically. "I don't know. Maybe having a kid has changed him. All I know is he loves her, and he doesn't make a big deal about it in front of me."

"Oh, so you and Malfoy are friends now?" Ron asked, his face reddening with anger.

Harry shrugged, knowing that as long as Ron was in his office he would get no work done. "We've hung out a few times," Harry informed him. "You know, if you gave him a chance, Hermione might realize that she's missed having you around. By the way, he's coming by today. I offered to give his son a tour of the Aurors' office. Hermione was going to bring him in last week, but the kid's a bit hesitant about magic."

"Afraid he's going to end up like Daddy and Granddad?" Ron wondered.

Harry rolled his eyes before telling Ron to leave his office. "Look, if you see him, just be nice," Harry advised. "It'll make Hermione happy, and it's not his son's fault that his ancestors are who they are."

Shrugging, Ron left his friend's office. Harry wasn't alone long. Ten minutes later, Hermione knocked on his door, and entered with Draco and Oliver close behind. Despite his shyness, Oliver stared with wide-eyed wonderment as he surveyed the decorations in Harry's office. Medals and plaques, autographs from Quidditch stars, the first snitch he'd ever caught lined the walls and shelves. The little boy seemed transfixed by the snitch, causing Draco to grin proudly. Harry rounded his desk and picked up the small, winged, gold ball.

"It won't come to life," he promised as he placed it in Oliver's hand. "They fly, you know. Your dad and I, when we played, it was our job to catch this. Now, I don't know what he's told you, but if he told you that he beat me every time, don't believe him. I don't think he ever managed to catch it before I did."

"Well, if I wanted my kid to think I wasn't a total screw up, this wasn't the way to go about it," Draco joked. "Thanks, Potter."

Harry smiled. "Any time," he promised. "Come on, let's get this tour going."

Oliver saw the Aurors' office, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office, and the Department of Magical Games and Sports. The little boy seemed impressed, and told his father so when they returned to Harry's office. "I'm coming around to it," he decided. "Dad, can we go to one of those...what's it called games? You know with the snitch like Mr. Potter's."

"I think that could be arranged," Draco replied. "What do you say, Potter? Have any ticket connections for the Quidditch World Cup?"

"I'll see what I can do," Harry promised. "Getting four tickets shouldn't be too difficult."

"Three," Hermione amended.

Oliver looked up at her with sad eyes. "But Mini, you have to come too," he said, his bottom lip forming a pout. He wrapped his arms around her hips. "Don't leave me, Mini."

Hermione struggled to hold back a laugh. "See what I mean about Malfoy guilt trips," she said. "Harry, try for four. And nothing as high as last time."

Harry promised to get to work on the tickets, and the Malfoys bade him goodbye. "This went well," Draco whispered to Hermione as she walked out with them.

"It's a start," she replied. "This is just a small piece of wizarding life. What if he doesn't like the rest?"

Draco knew that she was referring to the war and his part in it. He knew that one day he would have to tell his son, but he didn't want that day to come soon. Oliver was the most important person in his life, and he feared that learning that his father was the bad guy would damage their relationship forever.

"Couldn't I just, you know, not tell him?" Draco asked hopefully.

Hermione shook her head. "Isn't it better that it comes from you than a book?" she replied. "Wouldn't you feel betrayed if you found out about your father's crimes from Professor Binns?"

He hated that she was right. Oliver had seen the faded remains of the Dark Mark on his arm plenty of times, but he had always had an excuse for it - a tattoo gone wrong that had to be removed. Draco had cautioned the little boy about making permanent mistakes, mistakes that often couldn't be rectified.

They arrived in the Atrium, ready to leave the Ministry for lunch. Oliver walked a few steps ahead of them, but stopped when he reached the fountain dedicated to the war effort. "Daddy, what's this?" Oliver asked.

Draco groaned softly, and stared at the monument. The Greek goddess of peace, Eirene, stood tall above them in the middle of the fountain. Tiles decorated with the names of the fallen surrounded the outer base. Coins were occasionally tossed in the water as an offering to the goddess, hoping that she would continue to bless their world with the peace for which they had so arduously fought.

"Before you were born, there was a war," Draco explained. "This statue is a memorial to the witches and wizards who died. Do you see this name here? He was a very brave man."

Hermione looked over his shoulder to see where he pointed. Tears welled in her eyes when he pointed not to Severus Snape, but Remus Lupin.

"And this one," Draco continued, pointing out Fred' Weasley's name, "was one of the funniest, most talented pranksters Hogwarts has ever seen."

"Did the good guys beat the bad guys?" Oliver asked.

"They did," Draco confirmed, smiling at Hermione.

Oliver noticed the small glance that passed between the adults. "Mini, were you one of the good guys?" he asked.

"One of the best," Draco replied for her. "Listen, I promise to tell you all about it one day. Right now, I think it's time to get some lunch."

Hermione agreed in a show of solidarity. "You handled that well," she murmured when they stepped outside.

Draco shrugged. "If only the real story could be that easy," he muttered.


	15. Chapter 15

I'm home sick today, so I've been writing (and coughing and sneezing) all morning. I'm working on a new story!

* * *

Chapter 15

"There have been new reports of magic used in a muggle neighborhood," Ron announced excitedly, interrupting Harry and Hermione's lunch break. The pair shared an unreadable look and continued to eat. "Didn't you hear me? Maybe this is the case you two were working."

Hermione cleared her throat as she stood to dispose of her garbage. "I highly doubt it, Ron," she replied. "Besides, there are witches and wizards living in muggle towns, and a good many of them are permitted to use magic."

"Not in the middle of a cafe," he retorted. She stared at him, dumbfounded by that revelation. "Didn't you say that Malfoy lives in the muggle part of London? What if this was him?" Ron asked.

"It wasn't," she replied definitively. "He doesn't even own a wand, and he knows our laws. Draco wouldn't use magic in an open area like that."

Harry looked worried. "What if it was Ollie?" he asked. "You don't think something bad happened, do you?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, Draco would have called," she said.

"Why?" Ron wondered, genuinely curious.

"Because I'm his girlfriend, and also a member of the Magical Law department," she explained. "He'd want to make sure I knew that it was a false alarm. We don't prosecute children who haven't learned how to control their magic. If Draco were involved, he would have told me."

"Might not hurt to ask," Harry advised. "Go on. I'll let your boss know you stepped out for a case."

Nodding, Hermione did as she was told. It took only seconds for her to arrive in Draco's flat. Since Oliver's discovery of magic, Draco had dismantled the wards and connected the fireplace to the floo network. Stepping out of the fireplace, Hermione stopped in her tracks. "Parkinson?" she asked, dismayed and disbelieving.

"Fancy finding you here," Pansy Parkinson replied. "Why _are_ you here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Draco interrupted as he glared at his ex. His expression softened slightly when he turned to his girlfriend. "I'm assuming you're here to arrest her for using magic in front of muggles. Please tell me you can do that."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "That depends," she said. "We received a report about that. Were you involved?"

Draco snorted. "Involved? Involved doesn't begin to cover it," he replied. "It was her magic. And by the way, didn't I ask you and Potter to stop looking for her?"

"We did," Hermione told him. "Maybe those two brain cells she has are good for something, and she found you. Where's Oliver?"

"Still at school," Draco said. "And I'd like her gone before he gets home."

Hermione nodded. "Pansy, could we talk in private?" she requested. "I'm not going to arrest you now or call in the Aurors. I just have a few questions to ask."

With a dramatic sigh, Pansy followed her to the kitchen. "Will Draco give me my wand back if I talk to you?" she inquired, taking a seat at the table.

Hermione swore she didn't know. "How'd you find him?" she asked. "Aurors, some of the absolute best trackers, were sent to find him and failed. How did you do it?"

Pansy shrugged as she played with the salt shaker. "His mother told me," she replied. "I've been in France since the war ended. My parents sent me there to have the baby, and I never left except to attend Draco's trial. I never understood why Draco stayed here when his family left the country."

"Why come back now though?" Hermione wondered.

Sighing, Pansy put down the shaker and stared at her now empty hands. "I didn't want to leave in the first place," she confessed. "Draco was..._is_ the only boy I've ever loved. When I found out that I was pregnant, I thought this was it. I'd get the husband I want and a baby, and we'd be a family. Then my parents found out. The rule was I could access my trust fund at thirty or when my father died, whichever came first. If I stayed with Draco, became a wife and mother, that was it. No money. Draco was a prisoner, and I didn't know if I'd ever see him again."

"But you did," Hermione pointed out. "You were there at his trial. You heard the acquittal."

There were tears in Pansy's blue eyes when she looked up. "I'd already made up my mind by then," she said regretfully. "Even if he was deemed innocent, he had no way to take care of me and a baby. His family's money was all but gone."

Hermione shook her head. "So you handed over Oliver and walked away," she muttered. "Did it ever occur to you that he might not be able to take care of a baby? It's like you said - the money was gone. Did you just not care about them? Did you ever think to send him some of your family's fortune?"

"Do you really think he would have accepted it?" Pansy inquired. "Draco hated me for what I did, and I don't blame him. I'm not trying to win him back. I was just hoping he would let me meet my son."

Taking a seat, Hermione frowned. "Pansy, I don't know that that's an option," she said. "Draco...well, you know Draco."

Nodding, Pansy got to her feet. "I know," she murmured. "Could you talk to him though? I don't know that it'll make a difference, but he seems more receptive to you than he does to me."

"I'll do my best," Hermione promised. Pansy Apparated on the spot, leaving Hermione alone in the kitchen. Minutes later, Draco entered and sat down beside her. "She wants to meet Oliver. I told her I'd ask you."

They sat in silence, Draco considering Pansy's request and Hermione gauging his reaction. Instead of replying, Draco made tea. She asked if he had heard her, and he nodded to let her know that he had. "I don't care what she wants," he finally told her, setting down two mugs on the table. "Her wants and desires went out the window six years ago when she gave him up."

Hermione nodded in agreement as she sipped the hot tea. "I had a feeling you would say that," she remarked. "The thing is, I just can't help but wonder if maybe she's grown up too. She seems to regret leaving him for her family's money. Oliver doesn't need to know who she is. She could just be an old friend. You don't have to tell him she's his mother."

Shaking his head, Draco sighed. "I appreciate that you care about my son," he said, choosing his words carefully. "You might be the closest thing he's ever had to a mother, but you need to accept that you are _not_ his mother. You don't get to take part in making these decisions. Now, I thank you for your input, but this is my choice to make."

Taken aback, Hermione stared at him, able to do nothing more than blink. "I'm sorry," she said when she found her voice. "I'm going back to work."

Draco watched her leave the kitchen, and he let her go.


	16. Chapter 16

Sorry for not posting for a few days. I've been really sick this week, like voluntarily went to the doctor sick. My mother usually has to drag me kicking and screaming to the doctor, which is getting weirder the closer I get to 30.

* * *

Chapter 16

Hermione didn't return. It was a week before Draco saw her again. He hated going to the Ministry, but it was the only chance he had to talk to her. He needed to make things right, to make her see that their argument had all been a misunderstanding. At least, it had been for him.

Entering the Magical Law Enforcement offices, he spotted Hermione at her desk, bent over a stack of paperwork and looking tired. Draco took a seat and waited for her to acknowledge him. She was startled when she noticed him, and attempted to scowl. "What?" she asked.

"I came to apologize," Draco said.

"For what?" she wondered.

Draco removed the quill from her hand and set it aside. "For the way I treated you," he explained. "I love you, and I really do respect your opinions. You've only ever had my son's best interest, and I want your input. Sometimes I really need it. I never should have said what I said."

Hermione pushed aside her work, giving him her full attention. "No, you were right," she admitted. "It's not my place to tell you what to do."

"I don't see it as you telling me what to do," he replied, reaching for her hand. "It's just when it comes to Pansy, I don't deal with things well. Seeing her again brought up so much anger, and I took it out on the wrong person. I'm so sorry, Hermione."

She squeezed his hand. "If I accept your apology, will you accept mine?" she asked.

Smiling, he nodded. "I can't think of anything you have to be sorry for, but I'll accept if it means you start coming around again," he replied.

"I can be okay with that," she decided. "Can I watch Oliver after work today? I really miss him."

Letting go of her hand, Draco stood to leave. "He'd love that," Draco replied. "All he's asked about is you. Wants to know how I screwed things up with you, and when I planned to make things right."

Hermione followed him into the hallway. "Why did you wait a week to talk to me?" she wondered, leaning against the wall. "I mean, I guess I could have come to you first, but I didn't think you wanted to talk to me anymore."

Sighing, he leaned toward her and tucked a curl behind her ear. "I wanted to talk to you every day," he replied. "Believe it or not, but I really like talking to you. I'm stubborn, and I wanted to be mad at you for what you said. I managed to hang onto that anger for a whole five minutes after you left, and then I sat down and stared at the fireplace, wishing you'd come back. When you didn't, I started to wonder if we were over. It scared me that we might be, and I didn't want to find out that we actually were."

"We're not," she promised. He let out a small breath of relief. "And I promise to only dispense advice when you ask for it. You're right - I'm not Ollie's mother, and I should stop acting like I am."

He held her hands and let his eyes focus on them. "I was sort of thinking just the opposite," he admitted. "Not every kid gets to choose their parents, but Oliver's lucky. He gets a second chance at having a mother, and he and I want it to be you."

"I'm confused," Hermione admitted.

He dropped one of her hands and dragged his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, I'm doing a pretty bad job here," he replied. "This is my way of asking you to marry me."

Shocked, she dropped his hand and stepped back. "Are you...are you serious?" she asked. "You want to get married? To me?"

"Yes, I do," he replied. "Six months ago, I would have told you that I would never get married. And then you walked into the club. I thought I was done for that night, but it turned out to be the best thing that's happened to me since Ollie was born. I love you, and you should be a part of this family."

Hermione inhaled a deep breath to steady her nerves. This wasn't the proposal she expected. It shouldn't have come as the result of a fight, and it shouldn't have happened in the Ministry. It was supposed to be special, a story she would one day tell her children and grandchildren about fondly. And yet, as she stood before the man she loved, she knew that Draco's proposal was special because it came from him.

"You, um, you don't have to answer now if you don't want to," he said, sensing her hesitation.

She shook her head, and took his hand once more. "No, you just caught me off guard," she replied. "And that's not no, I don't want to marry you. I do. Believe me, I do. Everything's moving so fast. It's just a bit overwhelming. I wasn't expecting this."

"I know," he murmured, caressing her cheek. "Maybe I didn't do this right. There should have been dinner and candle light and chocolates. Not this place. Not after not speaking to you for a week. Maybe we should forget that I asked now, and I can plan something. Something perfect. Oliver should be there, and-"

Hermione pressed her lips to his to silence him. "You're babbling," she teased. "You're right - those things should matter. Guess what? They don't. Do you know what I care about? You. The location of the proposal isn't nearly as important as the person asking to marry me."

"So...is this a yes?" he wondered. Smiling, Hermione nodded. Draco wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off her feet, and cheered loudly. The couple received strange looks for those around them, but they paid the passersby no attention. He spun her around once before letting her set her feet back on the ground.

"No one's going to believe this," she said, as he held her close. "Draco Malfoy to wed Hermione Granger. It's going to sound like an April Fools prank."

"I don't care what they think," he told her. "Listen, what do you say we get out of here? We'll go pick up Ollie from school, and we can tell him the good news. Think you can get away?"

Nodding, she excused herself, and returned moments later with her coat and purse. "How do you think he'll take it?" she wondered as they left the Ministry hand-in-hand. "Think he'll be okay with this?"

Draco laughed. "Are you kidding? He's going to be over the moon," he replied. "I don't know who wants this more - him or us."

They reached the school just as the students began pouring out. Oliver spotted them and ran, smiling, to greet them. "Mini!" he cried happily, wrapping his arms around her legs. "Oh, I missed you. You came back just for me, right?"

Hermione laughed as she picked him up. "You bet I did," she replied, kissing his cheek. "Your dad and I have some news, and we couldn't wait to share it with you."

The little boy glanced between the two adults and smiled. "Are you getting married?" he asked, barely able to contain his excitement. Draco nodded in confirmation, causing Oliver's enthusiasm to overflow. He hugged Hermione, his arms wrapped around her neck. A little boy with brown hair and untied sneakers walked by, catching Oliver's attention. "Hey, Ricky, I told you she's my mum!"

"I guess he's happy," Hermione mused.

Draco smiled. "Told you he would be."


	17. Chapter 17

Yesterday my dad and I have the following conversation: Dad - Two more weeks of NASCAR. Me - Two more days until my birthday. Dad - Yeah, I don't care about that. What matters is two more weeks of NASCAR. This is my family.

* * *

Chapter 17

_Malfoy and Granger to Wed - True Love or Publicity Stunt?_

"Tell me this is rubbish," Harry demanded, tossing the newspaper down on his friend's desk. "You told me the two of you were taking it slow. Now the _Prophet_ is claiming that the two of you are getting married. This is a joke, right?"

Hermione looked from the newspaper to Harry. "No, it isn't a joke," she replied calmly. "He asked, I said yes, and today he and Ollie are picking out a ring."

"What happened to taking things slow?" Harry inquired.

She shrugged and returned to her work. "We're not getting married tomorrow," she pointed out. "Planning a wedding takes time."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Because no one has ever eloped," he muttered. "And no, that wasn't a suggestion."

Glancing up, she smiled at him. "If we eloped, you wouldn't be able to walk me down the aisle," she said. "I really want that. You're the only family I have, and it would mean everything to me if you were there."

Sighing, he leaned on the edge of her desk. "You know I'll be there. No arm twisting or guilt tripping needed," he promised. "Ron's not going to be happy when he reads this though. Didn't the two of you break up after six years because you didn't want to get married? He's going to see this as a personal offense."

"No, I didn't want _children_," she reminded him. "And yes, I realize that marrying a man who has a child might seem hypocritical. I just...Ollie's changed my mind about them. I love listening to him and spending time with him. He's so smart, Harry."

"That's all well and good, and he does seem like a great kid," Harry replied. "But, Mione, a week ago the two of you were fighting and not speaking. Forgive me, but I'm concerned. What's he going to do the next time you get in an argument? Buy you a house? Fly you to Paris?"

Hermione attempted to maintain a calm composure, but Harry's doubts made it hard. "It's not like that," she assured her friend. "He didn't propose to end a fight. Is it so hard to believe that he did it just because he loves me?"

Smiling, he shook his head. "No, that isn't hard to believe," he agreed. "I just want to make sure the two of you are doing this for the right reasons. And if he proposed only because he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, then I can get behind this. I do think he loves you, and Oliver clearly wishes you were his mother. I don't know what the deal is with her, and frankly, I don't want to. I think it's great that you've become the mum he needs."

Grinning, she stood to hug him. "Thank you," she murmured, kissing his cheek. Pulling away, she sat back down. "Any chance you can work your magic, and find out who leaked the story?"

Harry shook his head and chuckled. "He proposed in the middle of a hallway. How am I supposed to do that?" he wondered.

Hermione shrugged. "You're the Head Auror. I'm sure you'll figure it out," she replied. "I've got faith in you."

"You're not really upset that it got out, are you?" he asked. "I mean, you two are happy together, and people were bound to find out anyhow. Is it really so bad that it's in the _Prophet_?"

Frowning, Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. Was it really so bad when they reported on the goings on of Ginny's and your relationship?" she countered. "Is it a different feeling when the news is bad?"

Sighing, Harry conceded. "I'll look into it," he promised. "But maybe it's better to just let this go and be happy. Before the backlash starts."

She knew what he meant. The Golden Trio was supposed to remain together forever, and Hermione and Harry were meant to be a part of the Weasley family. Everyone wanted and expected it, except for Harry and Hermione. That the muggleborn brain of the trio would choose Draco Malfoy, the pureblood supremacist, was bound to shock more than a few people.

"I'm trying not to think about that," she confessed. "I'm happy, and I want that feeling to last for as long as possible. If people can't see that he's changed, then I don't care what they think. All that matters is that I love him."

Harry gave one of her curls a gentle tug. "You've succeeded in changing my mind about him," he said. "Who's to say you can't get that opinion in other people's minds?"

As Harry walked away, she smiled. Perhaps he was right. If she could change one stubborn mind, perhaps more could be changed. Draco would tell her it didn't matter what others thought. And it didn't matter to her. At least, that's what she told herself as she read the article. It was classic Rita Skeeter journalism - hyperbolic, tactless, and without too many real facts. She was able to brush it off, knowing that many saw it for what it was - yellow journalism.

Ron, however, was quick to believe the lies. "Well?" he asked, tossing his copy down on her desk.

Hermione pushed it aside and continued working. "Well what?" she inquired. "Yes, I'm marrying him. No, it isn't a publicity stunt. Yes, I love him. No, he's not doing this just to get back into the wizarding world's good graces. Does that cover everything?"

He sat down. "I guess," he mumbled. "Is he coming back?"

"I don't think so," she replied. "Draco's made quite a nice life himself in the muggle world. Being away from here has been really good for him. He's completely different from the boy we went to school with. Do you really think he would ask _me_ to marry him if he wasn't?"

"No, I guess not," he conceded. "It's just...I can't help but wonder what I did wrong. You said you didn't want a family, but Malfoy's got a kid. Was it...was it me? You just didn't want to be with me?"

Sighing, she shook her head. "I don't know how to explain it," she admitted. "When we were together, I really wasn't ready for children. I still don't know that I am. But Oliver...I don't know. We've fallen into such an easy rhythm, and I can't help but love him. I really did love you, Ron, and I'm sorry that we weren't in the same place at the same time."

There was a sad smile on his lips, but he tried to be happy for her. "At least we're friends again, yeah?" he asked.

"Yeah, we are," she assured him. "I know it's a long shot, given our history and all, but do you think you'd come to the wedding? We haven't made any plans yet. I just want to know that I've got some family there."

Ron let out a breath as he stood. "Sure, I'll be there," he promised. "Congratulations, Mione. He better treat you well."

Hermione smiled as he kissed her forehead. "Thanks, Ron."


	18. Chapter 18

I hate busy days! And despite how distracted I was by work, all I could think about were the leftover ziti and cake sitting in my fridge.

* * *

Chapter 18

"No, Daddy. I want to give it to Mini," Oliver whined as they finished dinner.

Draco chuckled as he cleared the table. "And here I thought I was the one marrying her," he commented, looking to Hermione for back up.

She merely shrugged. "We all know I'm only marrying you for Oliver," she replied cheekily. The little boy shot his father a self-satisfied smirk. "However, I do think you should be the one to give me the ring. Sorry, Ollie."

Draco grinned triumphantly as he left the kitchen. Beside her, Oliver sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "So, if you and Daddy get married, do I still have to call you Mini?" he inquired.

She copied his posture. "What did you have in mind?" she wondered.

Oliver shrugged and averted his eyes to the blue and green checkered tablecloth. "Well, the kids in school call their daddies' wives Mummy," he told her. "But I think their mummies are really their mummies. None of the other kids have new mummies. At least, I don't think they do."

"Do you want to call me Mummy because that's what the other kids call their mums?" she asked. Oliver shrugged. "Can I tell you what I think? I can't think of any little boy I'd rather hear call me mummy than you. I really do love you, Ollie, and I would be honored to be your mum."

"You mean it?" he asked, cautious about getting his hopes up.

He sat close enough to her that Hermione was able to pull him onto her lap. "You know I do," she replied.

Smiling, he kissed her cheek. "I want you to be my mum," he declared. "And I want to call you Mummy when you and Daddy get married. Would it be okay if I start practicing though?"

"I could be okay with that," she decided as Draco returned.

"Okay with what?" he wondered, ruffling his son's hair.

"I'll tell you later," Hermione promised. "Right now, there are more pressing matters at hand. Like what's in that box you're keeping hidden behind your back. Why are you hiding it?"

Shrugging, Draco claimed Oliver's now empty chair. "I don't know. It just doesn't feel special enough," he admitted. "The whole thing, I feel like I did it wrong. I proposed to you at work, for goodness sake. It's just...this isn't how I imagined us getting engaged."

She wore a reassuring smile as she held out her hand to him. "I told you what matters to me - that you're the one asking," she replied. "And how can you say this isn't enough? You made a beautiful dinner, I'm with two of my favorite people. What more do I need?"

Again he shrugged. "I don't know. Just...more," he said.

Giving his hand a squeeze, she promised, "You're enough."

Releasing a deep breath, he nodded and finally pulled the small black box from behind his back. Letting go of her hand, he opened it to reveal a small, solitaire diamond set in platinum. His fingers shook as he removed it from the velvet pillowing, and placed it on her finger. "Will you marry me?" he asked.

She smiled as she stared at the ring. "Yes, I will," she replied happily.

Oliver bounced excitedly on her lap. "I picked it out," he informed her. "It was so shiny. Isn't it pretty?"

"Very," Hermione agreed, kissing his temple. "I think you and your dad did a great job choosing it."

Draco smiled, relief evident in his gray eyes. He sent Oliver to get ready for bed, and led Hermione to the living room. "So, what now?" he wondered, taking a seat beside her on the sofa.

She rested her head on his shoulder. "I don't know," she admitted. "I guess we could confirm it to the papers. The Prophet's already run a story, claiming it's all a publicity stunt. Maybe we should prove them wrong."

Sighing, Draco disagreed. "I don't know," he replied. "I left that world with people thinking I was an arrogant, hated, hateful git. I don't want to go back to make some grand declaration of my love for you. No one would believe it, frankly, and I don't want either one of us to constantly have to defend it. I mean, I'm okay with people knowing, but I don't want it to cause problems for you. Do Potter and Weasley know?"

Hermione nodded. "I told them," she shared. "After they read Rita Skeeter's article. They weren't happy at first, but we talked. Harry promised to walk me down the aisle, and Ron and I are on our way to being friends again. You should know that I'm not afraid to defend us. And I will to anyone who says you're not good enough, or this is just your way of improving your image. Because I know it isn't, and you know I'm not very good at letting people form misconceptions about the people and things I care about."

"Oh, I know," he replied with a chuckle. "House elves' rights were a pretty big deal for awhile there. I read all about your legislative attempts. I'm sorry they didn't go very far."

Her brow wrinkled as she asked, "How do you know about that?"

Shrugging, his cheeks reddened and he looked away. "What? So, I kept up with the news for a little while," he mumbled.

"And you memorized and held onto the news about me for six years?" she inquired, sitting up to look at him. "Did you have a crush on me? Is that why you used magic? You knew where I worked, and hoped to lure me into your life?"

Draco shook his head. "No, I stopped reading the Prophet about a year after I moved here," he told her. "It just got too hard. I would read about people I knew and people I missed, and I'd start thinking about going back. Oliver deserved to have a normal childhood. I couldn't deny him that."

She kissed him tenderly and placed her head on his shoulder once more. "It amazes me every day what a wonderful man you've become," she remarked.

He smiled proudly. "Glad you agreed to marry me?" he asked.

"I'll never regret it."


	19. Chapter 19

They're predicting snow for tomorrow. I'm only okay with snow when it means work is cancelled.

* * *

Chapter 19

Pansy waited for Hermione outside of the Ministry. The latest edition of _The Daily Prophet_ was clutched in her hand. Once again, Draco and Hermione were the front page story. Their engagement had been confirmed, and today's story detailed their story book romance. Rita Skeeter had also somehow managed to acquire the personal details of Draco's life since his disappearance.

"Have you seen this?" she demanded when she spotted her target. Hermione stared at her in shock as Pansy thrust the paper into her hands. "He's stripping? Draco Malfoy is a stripper? This can't be true."

Hermione scanned the article and frowned. "How did you think he was supporting Oliver and himself in the muggle world?" she asked.

Pansy deflated. "I don't know. Not like this," she replied. "It's so demeaning."

Hermione offered to talk in a nearby cafe, and Pansy followed. When they were seated with coffees, Hermione spoke. "I don't think he's proud of it, but he knows he's doing what he needs to do to take care of Oliver," she said. "He's using that money to put himself through culinary school now. He's only about three months into it, but he's so happy."

"Does Oliver know?" Pansy wondered.

Hermione shook her head. "Draco doesn't want him to know," she replied. "At least not until he's older. I think it's a bit difficult to explain something like this to a six year old."

Pansy ran her fingers through her short black bob and nodded. "So, is everything else in the article true?" she wondered. "The engagement? You and Draco are really getting married?"

Pansy looked pained as she asked the question, and it was one Hermione was reluctant to answer. "Yes, we are," she finally confirmed, though she hid her left hand beneath the table.

"That's great," Pansy replied, attempting a smile that didn't quite hide the pain she felt. Hermione tried to apologize, but Pansy wouldn't hear it. "No, it's good. I'm happy for all three of you. I take Oliver's happy about it."

Hermione nodded. "We don't have to talk about this," she said.

"It's fine," Pansy insisted. "Um, I'm sure it's a longshot, but with you becoming his stepmother, do you think you might be able to help me meet Oliver?"

There was no way Draco would allow it, and both women knew it. She did admire Pansy's determination though. "We both know Draco," Hermione said, carefully choosing her words. "I will talk to him, but I don't know how effective it'll be. He may respect my opinions, but this subject isn't one he wants to discuss."

Pansy nodded. "I'm not going to get my hopes up," she assured her. "I just...I regret what I did. I was young and scared, and I allowed my parents to dictate my decisions. What's worse is it wasn't until my father passed away a few months ago that I decided to seek out Draco and Oliver. I'm not asking to be his mother. That's not even an option anymore. Draco would never allow it. I just want to see him."

"I'll talk to him," Hermione promised. They left the coffee shop then, and Hermione returned to work.

Harry waited at her desk, a wry grin on his lips. "You're late," he teased.

"Out of my chair," she retorted, setting her bag down on the desk. "What do you want?"

Harry smirked and took a seat beside her desk. "What's got you in such a fine mood this morning?" he inquired. Reluctantly, she told him about her early morning conversation with Pansy Parkinson. He was shocked by the revelation that Pansy was Oliver's mother. "I take it Draco knows she's in town?"

Hermione nodded. "They talked once," she replied. "That was more than enough for him. I feel bad for her. She wants to meet her son, and she knows Draco will never let her. What would you do if you were me?"

Sighing, Harry shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "I know what it's like to want to know your parents. I know Oliver has moved on from wanting to know her, but I don't think it could hurt for them to meet, even just once. What if they ran into each other randomly? You know, she passes you on a walk or something."

She considered the idea. "It would be rude not to say hello," Hermione pointed out. "Oliver doesn't need to know that she's anything more than a friend."

Harry nodded in agreement. "The only obstacle is Draco," he reminded her. "The two of you have something good going now. You go behind his back like this, he's going to be mad. Maybe, at least for now, hold off on introducing Oliver to Pansy. Maybe when he's older, Draco will be more receptive to allowing it."

She knew he was right, and promised that she wouldn't push her fiance on the issue. Not wanting to discuss the subject further, she asked why he had been waiting for her. Harry blushed, having forgotten about his original purpose for being there. "Right, yeah. Um, Ron has tickets for the Cannons game this weekend. Could you ask Draco if he wants to come?" he asked.

"Just Ron and Draco?" she inquired, eyebrows raised skeptically.

"I'll be there too," Harry assured her. "You know, to keep the peace. It was Ron's idea to give the third ticket to Draco. It was supposed to be Neville's, but something came up. So, could you ask Draco?"

Hermione smiled. "I think that's a really nice idea," she replied, promising to ask. Harry left then, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The interruptions in her day didn't end with Harry though. Cases were dropped in her inbox and coworkers stopped by her desk to ask questions. It wasn't until noon that she managed to sneak away for a quick lunch. Draco waited outside for her, and she happily fell into his embrace. "Very long morning," she mumbled, her head pressed against his shoulder.

"Did Pansy have something to do with that?" he inquired.

Hermione lifted her head, her eyes wide as she looked at him. "We talked," she confirmed. Draco shook his head as he pulled away from her. "Can we talk about this without you getting mad at me?"

He leaned against the building and hung his head. "It's not you I'm mad at," he explained. "It's her. She walked away from our son. What kind of person does that? She may have given birth to him, but she's not his mother. In every way that counts, you're his mother. Pansy has no business being in his life, and it makes me so mad that now she wants to be."

"He father died," Hermione told him. "That's why she hasn't tried until now. You said she gave him up for her inheritance. Doesn't this mean she has it now?"

Draco nodded, confirming that she did. "And what if she decides now that she can afford to raise him that she should have custody again?" he wondered, fear evident in his gray eyes. "I know what they wrote about me in the paper. What if-"

"Then we fight to make sure she doesn't get it."


	20. Chapter 20

I learned something very important yesterday. Don't microwave rice cakes because that could start a fire. I swear I didn't learn it first hand, and my kitchen is still in one, often unused piece. It was just a google lesson. Weird though, eh?

* * *

Chapter 20

Draco's foot tapped nervously beneath the table. It had been years since he and Pansy actually talked, and it made him nervous. It had been his idea to meet, and he knew he couldn't back out. Thankfully, she looked just as apprehensive as he felt. Pansy attempted to smile as she sat down across from him. Her coat remained on and she clutched her purse tightly.

"Thanks for coming," he said, noticing the tremor in his voice.

"Thanks for asking," she replied. "What did you want to talk about?"

Letting out a soft breath, he folded his hands on top of the table and leaned forward. "Oliver," he said. "I know you read the paper, and I know that you know what I do to support him. I'm not proud of it, but I'm doing what I need to do to keep a roof over his head, food on the table, and clothes on his back. And I know you've now got the money to do all of that, but I'm scared, Pans."

"Of what?" she asked, eyebrows furrowing. Draco looked away and chewed his bottom lip. Setting aside her purse, she placed a hand over his. "Draco, what are you afraid of?"

He returned his steely gaze to her. "That you'll take him away from me," he replied. "You can't...you can't take him away from me. This isn't about what happened between you and me, or my anger towards you for leaving him. I can't live without him. My son is my entire life, and I can't live without him."

Pansy sat back in her seat. "I have no intentions of doing that," she assured him. "I raised him for six months. You've been his family for six years. I don't deserve to be his mother. I would like to meet him though."

"He's asked about you," Draco admitted. "Well, I mean not you specifically. Just about his mother."

A guilty feeling came over her. "I'm sorry I gave him up," she said. "When he was a baby, I would just stare at him all day. My parents hated it. They didn't want me to keep him, and being with him meant I was becoming attached. It wasn't easy giving him up, Draco, and it wasn't easy to stay away. I admire that you could leave our world behind, but I couldn't do that. It didn't even occur to me that I could do that. Maybe if I'd known then...things might be different."

"Yeah, maybe," was he was mumbled agreement. "Listen, um, I know you and Hermione have talked, and she thinks I should let you see him. It makes me nervous, but I think I'm ready to say yes."

Pansy grinned, her eyes wrinkling from her happiness. "Really?" she asked, fearful that he might be untruthful.

Smiling, he nodded. "Really," he replied. "Trust me, this is all Hermione. She, uh, I love her, but she's pushy. Somehow she always convinces me that her way is the right one."

"You're happy," she said matter-of-factly. "I can't remember the last time I saw you happy."

Draco shrugged. "I don't think I figured out how to be happy until Oliver," he replied. "You know, you did that. You gave him to me. Watching his first steps, hearing his first word, watching him grow up, the last six years have been the happiest of my whole life. What about you? Have you been happy?"

Pansy sighed as she stared down at her hands folded in her lap. "At times," she told him. "Not a day goes by that I don't think about Oliver or regret walking away from the two of you. I haven't dated anyone since you. There have been moments of happiness though. I opened a little boutique in Paris. It's not much, but I like running my own business."

"What happens if you fall in love with him?" Draco wondered. "You've got a life in another country, and a son here. He gets attached easily. If he likes you, he's going to want to see you again and again."

"I'm more than willing to make time for him," she promised. "Are you going to tell him who I am?"

"I don't know," he replied. "We'll figure that out when the time comes. Right now, I think it would be better to tell him you're a friend."

Pansy agreed and together they left the cafe for Draco's flat. When they entered, Hermione looked up from Oliver's homework with a surprised look on her face. "Pansy, hi," she said, though she looked at Draco. She noticed that neither one paid her any attention, but rather looked to Oliver to gauge his reaction to the stranger in his living room.

Oliver glanced from his father to the woman beside him before looking to Hermione. "Who's that?" he whispered to her.

Draco cleared his throat and sat down beside his son. "Buddy, I have a friend I want you to meet," he said, looking at Pansy. "She's a witch too. We grew up together, and I thought you might like to meet her."

"Why?" Oliver wondered. "You and Mini aren't breaking up, are you? You said you were gonna marry her and she could be my mum."

Draco was shocked by the panic in the little boy's voice. "No, Ol. Mini and I are fine," he assured him. "Pansy's just an old friend of ours, someone who might be coming around more in the future."

"Why?" Oliver asked again.

Pansy hesitantly stepped forward. "Your dad and I want to be friends again," she explained. "But I think he wanted to make sure you were okay with it first."

Oliver shrugged and returned his attention to his homework. "Fine by me," he mumbled before asking Hermione to help him with his math problems.

Draco returned to Pansy's side with an apologetic frown. "He's lived with you too long," she teased. "Don't worry about it. I'm not offended. I remember you at that age. I believe you threw a teacup at my father the first time you met him."

Draco laughed as he fondly recalled that day. "It wasn't my fault my parents gave a six year old fine china," he responded. "Besides, I've never liked the taste of tea. The cup and your father had it coming. The way he would yell at you."

Pansy shrugged. "Don't dwell, Draco," she advised. "He's gone now."

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Draco excused himself to open it and let Harry into his flat. "Why are you here?" he asked.

Harry held up two tickets to the Cannons/Puddlemere United match. "I managed to get another ticket. Thought Ollie might like to go to the game with us this weekend," he replied. Draco accepted the tickets and thanked him. "Okay, well, see you. Parkinson, nice to see you again."

Pansy nodded. "Walk me out, Potter?" she requested.

Harry acquiesced, much to Draco's amusement. He took a seat on the floor next to his son. That's when he noticed the frown on the little boy's face. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Oliver stared down at the book open in front of him. "My mum's a witch, right?" he asked. Draco confirmed with an apprehensive nod of his head, that yes, she was. "And that lady is too. So does that mean she's my mum?"

Hermione and Draco exchanged a pained look before he replied, "Yeah, buddy, she is."

Oliver pushed away his books and stood. "I don't want her to be," he declared. "Mini's my mum now. I don't need another one."


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

"So, do you think they'll tell Ollie who you really are?" Harry asked as he and Pansy walked to the lobby.

It was the first time he had spoken to her since they left the Malfoys' flat, and Pansy was stunned by the question. "I, uh...I don't know," she replied. "I don't think so."

Harry shook his head as he held the front door open for her. "He's a smart kid. I'd bet ten galleons he figures it out," he replied.

"That's all you'd wager?" she asked incredulously as they stepped out into the cold, night air. "It's not much, Potter. I thought you had more faith in my...in him."

Together they crossed the street. "I'd bet more, but that Quidditch ticket set me back a bit," he joked. "So, was it everything you hoped it would be?"

They began to walk around aimlessly. "It was what I expected it to be," Pansy said. "I didn't think he would run to me with open arms, calling me 'Mummy', if that's what you mean. No, I fully expected him to be a bit distant, wary of me even. It doesn't make it hurt any less though. Especially when I saw how attached he is to Hermione."

Harry noticed the way she shivered, and led her into a nearby coffee shop. "Don't be mad at her," he said, finding a table in the back.

Pansy shook her head. "I'm not," she promised. "I'm jealous of her, but I'm not mad at her. It must take a special person to agree to raise someone else's child. I'm happy that they've got a good relationship. Living with Draco, I'm sure he needs it."

Harry frowned as their coffees arrived. "He's really good with Oliver," he replied, feeling defensive on his friend's behalf.

"It was a joke," she mumbled, blushing slightly as she sipped her drink. "I didn't mean for it to sound like I was putting down his parenting skills. It was more a commentary on the way he used to be."

Smiling, Harry nodded. "Ah yes, the arrogant prat who would never give the likes of Hermione and me the time of day," he recalled. "I do so miss his taunts and our little bickering matches. Watching him be turned into a ferret is still one of my fondest school memories. I wonder if Oliver knows about that."

"I'm sure you're itching to tell him," Pansy remarked.

Harry leaned in close. "You know, the first thing Hermione bought Ollie was a little stuffed ferret toy," he told her. "The kid loves it, probably because Hermione gave it to him. Me? I like to think it's because deep, _deep_ down, somewhere in the recesses of his brain, he knows that his father was once a ferret."

She laughed delightedly, much to Harry's satisfaction. "You know, when I met with Draco tonight, I didn't expect the evening to end well," she commented. "This has been fun though. Sort of makes up for the whole 'meeting my son six years later' disaster."

"Give him time. Ollie will come around," Harry advised. "He wasn't too fond of me at first. Now, he almost tolerates me some of the time."

Pansy cracked a small smile. "So, you're saying there's hope for me," she replied, receiving a confident nod from Harry. "You know, this night hasn't been so bad. Talking to you has been nice."

Harry agreed, and placed a few bills on the table to cover their coffees. "Do you think you might want to talk to me again?" he asked.

0000000

"How did he figure it out?" Draco wondered as he and Hermione straightened up the living room. Oliver had gone to bed an hour earlier, angry at them for bringing Pansy into his life.

Hermione shrugged as she arranged the throw pillows on the sofa. "Six year old logic?" she guessed. "His mum's a witch, and the only witches he knows are me and now Pansy. It sort of makes sense that he would guess that it's her."

Sighing, he sat down and rubbed his eyes. "Did I do the right thing?" he asked. "Bringing Pansy here to meet him. Maybe I should have waited until he was older. How royally have I screwed things up?"

"You haven't," she promised, sitting down beside him. Leaning in, she kissed his cheek before resting her head on his shoulder. "He's just confused and trying to process it all. Honestly, I didn't expect you to spring it on him the way you did, but maybe meeting his mother shouldn't be his choice at six. You and Pansy discussed your custody fear?"

Draco nodded. "She said she doesn't want it," he told her. "I don't know though. Is it really possible that Pansy Parkinson has matured enough to realize that she needs to do what's right for other people, and not just for herself? I once saw her swear to Daphne Greengrass that she should buy a dress because it looked better on her, and then Pansy stole it from her wardrobe in the middle of the night. She's not exactly the kind of person whose word can be trusted."

"Maybe she's changed," Hermione offered. "Think about how much the war and being a parent changed you. Maybe it's done the same for her. Giving up her child must have been the most difficult thing she's ever done."

Sighing, he shook his head. "I don't know. I'm still not convinced that she's not going to try something," he replied. "Are you at all worried that she might do something?"

"No, I'm not," she said. "I really think she's changed. Ollie's not a dress. She's not going to sneak in in the middle of the night and take him. And I really don't think she's going to sue you for custody of him. She'd never win. It's been six years since she's seen him. I've done a bit of research on wizard custody laws. Usually, it's the mother who's awarded custody, unless they've been proven neglectful. Also, there are some old, archaic, pureblood laws wherein it states that the father would receive custody of the heir. Oliver's your only child, which makes him the Malfoy family heir. You've got two statutes on your side."

Draco chuckled. "Of course you've done research," he muttered. "Before or after she started coming around?"

Hermione shrugged. "The day after you told me she was his mother," was her answer.

He shifted beside her, laying her down on the sofa. Hovering above, he slowly leaned down to kiss her. "You're going to keep my life very interesting, aren't you," he mused.

Winding her arms around his neck, she fingered the hairs at the nape of his neck. "Yes, I will," she replied, pulling him in for another kiss, one that last longer than the previous one. "I'm also going to drive you crazy and make you want to throw things at the wall. It's important that you recognize my weaknesses as well as my many, many attributes."

"That's all I see," he promised. "I love you too much to see the bad stuff. Can you see past my faults?"

Hermione smiled. "What faults?"


End file.
